Quarantine
by MissjudyK
Summary: Adam is running the ranch alone while his family takes a spring trip to San Francisco. All has gone well, but a change in the weather heralds an unexpected chain of events that Adam must deal with. When Ben, Hoss and Joe return they find an empty ranch…and a mystery.


**Quarantine**

 **One**

Adam was shivering so hard he bit his tongue. He could taste blood as he raised his fist to the sky and cursed the dark clouds rolling eastward across the Sierras along with the precipitation that was falling from them. Freezing, driving rain had already slithered into every entry point at the neck of his oilcloth slicker, and the clothing beneath had wicked the cold moisture through every layer until it had reached his skin and consumed any heat his body could produce. His lower pants legs were so saturated that they'd formed their own weather system, generating a downpour on his feet and a swamp inside his boots. The mere thought of the icy water that had bubbled between his toes with each step he'd taken for the last few hours made him start shivering again.

Yet as bad as these things were, they were not the worst of his discomfort. He'd had to dismount throughout the day while creating a fence out of brush to keep a herd of young steers confined in a box canyon. While away, puddles had accumulated in his saddle. He kept his leather well-oiled and that had protected it for a while. But after the prolonged exposure, the grain had begun to rise on the seat. His pants and long-johns had become soaked in a saddle-shaped pattern from sitting in those puddles, and the combination of wet clothing and rough leather had created the effect of a scouring brush being wielded against his tender parts with the ferocity of a woman scrubbing her floors before hosting a meeting of the Ladies' Benevolent Society.

He was in a world of misery, yet he couldn't complain…too much. "C'mon, boy." He urged Lightning ahead with a gentle nudge as a shiver rippled from his neck to his toes, and a minor readjustment of his position in the saddle reignited a burn in the raw flesh he was sitting on.

His family had been away in San Francisco nearly three weeks already, and his thoughts turned to them. He could imagine them getting spruced up about now, before heading out for the evening. He'd given the three of them his blessing for the extended trip, assuring them that he and the crew would handle the early spring ranch work in their absence.

If he remembered correctly, they were going to a play tonight featuring a young woman From Virginia City. Little Joe had fancied her…briefly…before she'd decided to try acting. His brother had laughed when he'd heard of her success, saying that the drama she'd created in every circumstance while they'd kept company, must have been her rehearsal for this opportunity.

Another oath exited Adam's mouth when an icy reminder of the weather seeped through the buttons of his coat after he dumped the contents of his hat brim onto his lap while looking down to check a flooded section of road. He was officially wet everywhere now. The house was still 20-minutes away, so he tried again to distract himself. His memories took him to back to what he'd done over the winter…and the reason he'd had to send his family off without complaints.

His father and brothers had managed the ranch from January through early March while _he'd_ been in San Francisco working with his college roommate, Frankie Wadsworth, who had moved to Frisco after their graduation to run the West Coast division of their family's engineering empire.

People in Virginia City knew of Adam's education and came to him with projects that kept him as busy as he could be with the demands of the ranch. But working at Wadsworth Engineering meant bigger and more demanding jobs that helped keep his skills sharp. He and Frankie always worked hard when he was there, but they also took advantage of all that the bigger city had to offer when the day was done.

His family never resented his absence because they understood its importance to him. It wasn't "whether" he could go that kept him home some years. He wouldn't leave until he'd spent Christmas with his family, and the Carson pass through the Sierras could be snowed in by then. This year's trip had been a sure thing since the Pony Express had begun crossing the pass with daily mail service, and they kept a path open for their riders. There had been snow by the time he'd left, but he'd gotten across the pass without trouble thanks to their efforts. Once he'd gotten to Placerville, he'd left a hores at a livery, and caught a stage to San Francisco.

There'd been an early thaw this spring, but regular stage schedules hadn't resumed due to a last heavy snow in the mountains. Rather than wait, his family had decided to use the same method he had, and had ridden to Placerville a little over two weeks ago. They could travel light since Frankie kept "city duds" at his house for all four Cartwrights, and had them delivered to the hotel when they came to the coast.

Pa had been reluctant to leave him alone with so much to do, but he'd been convincing in his promise that that there was enough crew to do every project they'd discussed by organizing effort and resources. There'd been no need to convince his brothers of anything, and they'd finally gotten their father to go before things got summer-hectic.

Work at the ranch had progressed as well as Adam had predicted for the first two weeks while good weather had blessed their efforts. They'd managed to round up cattle from their winter pastures and move them to fresh grass. New calves had been branded and brought to grazing land near the house with their mothers, and a few hundred head had been moved to a fenced pasture to be fattened with hay and grain for a May delivery to the cavalry. A team of men had ridden fence lines and checked line shacks, and he'd planned for repairs and restocking to be done in this final week before his family returned. The work had gone so well because he'd chosen the best men for each task, and more probably, because he'd kept them motivated by the promise of a free weekend before his father got back.

He smiled as he mentally ticked off all the things they'd finished on his list of projects, and then sighed as the rain began falling harder. He wouldn't take Lightning to a faster pace because he had no intention of repeating yesterday's near tragedy. Conditions hadn't been nearly this bad the day before when Sport had been in full stride as his foreleg had dropped into a deep hole, camouflaged by water. The big horse had tumbled forward when he couldn't correct the imbalance, tossing Adam over his head as he fell. He hadn't been hurt in the landing, but he shivered with the remembrance of watching his faithful steed struggle to stand, and fearing the animal had shattered the leg that had born the weight of the fall. Sport had made it to his feet and there'd seemed no serious injury, but he had limped heavily. Adam had walked home leading the chestnut to prevent further injury, and had left him in his stall to rest today.

The wet, miserable man atop Lightning gave a deep sigh as he thought about Sport—dry, fed, and being pampered by the ranch foreman—while he was out in the worst spring weather he'd seen in some years.

The distance to the house continued to wane—unlike the rain-and he tried not to think about "getting" home. His thoughts went there anyway. He knew there'd be no meal heating in the oven; neither would there be a fire in the massive hearth to chase away the dampness and warm his bones, nor dry clothing and "saddle salve" waiting in his room. He'd given Hop Sing time off while his family was gone, and his reasoning had been sound…at the time.

He'd known he'd be away a good deal, and when he could get to the house at night, he'd arrive late and leave early. His cooking abilities were the target of much humor within his family, but he could manage eggs and ham for his breakfast, and he'd eat what the trail cook made for the men for the other meals. Hop Sing had promised to come out to the house every few days to straighten things, bring fresh laundry, and leave a meal Adam could heat when he did get home. The corner of his mouth pulled to a grin as he thought about Hop Sing's "time off." He usually worked even harder at his cousins' place than he did for his employer.

His thoughts of Hop Sing turned the grin to a concerned frown. Things had gone as they'd agreed for the first two weeks. But he'd expected a visit yesterday and had been surprised when there'd been no evidence that Hop Sing had been there. The rain would have made the trip uncomfortable, and it wasn't that he'd ever expect an employee…or friend…to risk _their_ life to make _his_ life more pleasant. Yet Hop Sing was a loyal and conscientious man who would have come to honor his promise… _if possible_. Something was wrong; he felt it in his gut.

The miserable rain and the conditions it was causing were irksome, but he sensed that the weather was only a harbinger of what had started going wrong a few days back: not the root of it.

Another flume of water poured from his hat when he examined road ahead. It was sheeted with water, and he pulled Lightning to the boggy grass on the side to pass it. Once they were clear, he went back over the things that were contributing to his disquiet.

Most of his crew had gone into town last Friday night and returned Sunday. They'd lived up to their end of the bargain, and he'd actually wanted them to blow off a little steam—away from the ranch. A few of the crew—the two in charge, and those with families—had "volunteered" to stay and keep working, asking for a cash bonus rather than time off. Adam had jumped at the chance, and they'd managed to get even more done over the weekend.

The revelers had returned in good spirits, talking about the revue they'd seen at the Bucket of Blood. According to their reports, it had included a lot of singing and dancing done by "purdy" girls. Adam suspected that the entertainment had relied on the pretty faces to keep the audience from hearing the off-key singing and clumsy dancing, as was the usual case with the traveling burlesques that made the rounds of saloons this time of year.

He had gone to bed Sunday night with the hope of getting through every project on his list before his family returned next weekend. That hope had ended when he'd awakened to the sound of pelting sleet and rain hitting his window. The temperature had dropped into the mid-30s on a brisk north wind, and although it hadn't been cold enough to accumulate, there had been snowflakes mixed in with the rest of the mess. The high spirits in the bunk house had plummeted as quickly as the temperature, and Adam had heard the men grumbling about the "miserable conditions" when he'd been a few feet from their door. He'd agreed that their complaints were justified and rearranged his list to get projects done at the ranch instead of out in the fields. He'd still had to send a few men to make sure the herds were staying put in weather that could have spooked them, but there'd hadn't been much protest since he'd taken on part of that assignment himself.

Things had gone well enough on Monday. The rain had been sporadic, and things had gotten done.

By Tuesday morning the rain was constant, even though light. The temperature _had_ inched into the low 40s, but the wind had picked up again, making it feel much colder. The worsening weather had been accompanied by other changes that had been more concerning. He'd found several glassy-eyed men sitting around the table cradling their heads when he'd taken the work assignments to the bunkhouse. Their pink cheeks had been the only color in their faces, and they'd complained of feeling achy. He'd sent those men back to their bunks, and suggested that those who were feeling well might want to avoid the others. As he'd done a headcount, he'd soon realized that those who'd taken ill had been the men who'd spent time in town. This had led him to believe they'd been done in by their "active" weekend, followed by working in the cold. He'd been confident that a day of rest would put them back in order.

He'd set the healthy crew members to building new feed bins while he'd ridden out to see if the fattening herd needed more hay. Sport had tripped on the way home from there, and that had left his nerves jangling. But what he'd found at the house had made his anxiety grow even more. The crew's fevers hadn't abated, and some of them had started coughing. He'd brought out the standard elixirs and potions his family kept in the house for illnesses to add to what the men had retrieved from the cook wagon, and he'd again assumed that rest would put them right.

The night _had_ brought changes, but not the ones he'd hoped for. Hugh, the ranch's long-time foreman, had knocked on the door early this morning, bringing the bad news that the men were still ill, and now everyone else, except for he and Mike, his second in command, was feeling poorly too. He'd prophesied that the men had a good dose of the sniffles from the change of weather, and that he and Mike were all right because they'd bunked in the barn, and hadn't mingled with the men since the sickness had started.

Adam's head had spun a little as he'd taken in the information, not because he'd felt sick, but because he'd had to figure out how to run a place the size of the Ponderosa with three people. He'd finally decided to leave the two healthy hands at the ranch to keep an eye on the men and tend to the chores while he'd gone back to ensure that the group of young, spooked beef that Mike and Hugh had moved into a box canyon on Monday, were staying put.

He'd gotten to them around mid-day after checking on a few other things along the way, and had found that several had strayed to the slippery rocks outside the shelter. He'd ushered them back, and then blocked off the entry. The rain and muck had added time to his work and had gotten him to the miserable condition he was in now, but the canyon provided shelter from the howling winds, and his improvised barrier would keep them there.

His thoughts and Lightning's slow, steady pace had closed the distance to home, and he began to look forward to his evening. He felt fine except for being chilled and bone tired, and he agreed with Hugh's theory that minimal contact with the sick men would save him from whatever was going around the bunkhouse.

The house became a hazy image in the distance, and he used his final minutes on the road to think about tomorrow's trip to town. He needed cash to pay for a bull and several heifers that were due in on Friday from the Thunderbird Ranch. That spread was 100 miles to the southeast, and he wondered if their weather was as bad, and if they'd be delayed because of it. It didn't matter; they'd want their money whenever they arrived.

Hugh came running from the barn when he saw Adam ride in, hot-footing it across the puddles like there were flames under his feet instead of mud. He'd become the ranch foreman around the time that Adam had been old enough to start working cattle, and he'd taught the boy the basics of herding; helped him through the hazing by the other hands; stood by him when he'd faced a drover intent of hurting Ben Cartwrights by killing his son*, and later, he'd experienced the same sadness as the rest of the family when Adam had left for school. The "kid" had returned as a young man seven years ago, and now he was _Hugh's_ boss. That didn't bother him. He took pride in having had a hand in how good Adam had turned out.

"How're them beef doing?" he asked, holding Lightning's halter as his boss dismounted with an audible groan. Hugh turned away and grinned wickedly, knowing exactly what was causing the man's pinched expression. He'd done many a drive in wet clothes on a wet saddle, and just the memory of the rawness that resulted from it made him cringe too.

"I got them penned the best I could." Adam clenched his hands several times to get them working again. "My gloves were so wet that I went without them and now my hands seem frozen in place." He gave Hugh a good looking over. "You look like you're still feeling all right."

"I am, but then I don't get sick much. Never did as I recall." He drew a hissing breath through his teeth before adding, "But the men aren't any better." He returned the visual check he'd just received, and gave his opinion. "You look a little rough around the edges. Are you feelin' poorly?"

Adam sent a spray of water from his hat as he shook his head. "Nah, I just need to get dry and have a good night's sleep." He thought a minute. "I'm going to town first thing tomorrow. Why don't you ride along? We'll get Doc Martin to come out. You can head back with him, while I get my other business taken care of."

Hugh nodded. "I'll make sure that city-slicker doctor doesn't slide off the road on the way out here." Both men laughed while the foreman turned Adam around and gave him a push toward the house. "You go on inside. I'll get Lightnin' settled in, and oil that saddle so it won't be ruined. Mike is still healthy too, and we're stayin' put in the barn until this blows over. I might not get sick much, but I don't tempt fate either."

Adam had started to walk away in a wide-legged gait, but he turned back. "How's Sport doing?"

Hugh looked at his boots, and shook his head. "He's still favorin' that leg, so I'll saddle Lighting in the morning. We've had a poultice on it most of the day, and we'll do another liniment rubdown tonight."

Another concern poked Adam's memory. "With Cookie being sick, have you or the men had anything to eat?"

"Mike's a better cook than Cookie is, but you can't never tell neither of them that I said that. Mike made us some chicken stew using the heat stove in the tool shed, and he took a pot of broth to the bunk house with some canned biscuits and fruit. I can't say the men are stomach-sick or nothin' like that, but it don't seem they have appetites either. They'll be fine until the doc tells us what to do."

 **Two**

Adam made a stop in the bath house to shed his wet outer things before going inside. He sighed as he looked longingly at the tub, knowing he'd warm up fast with a bath. Yet it would take longer to heat the water than it would to dry off and change clothes.

One look around the kitchen confirmed that Hop Sing had not been there, and he was grateful for that since the hard rain had made the roads treacherous. Yet he couldn't keep the whisper of discouragement at bay as all the discomfort he'd tamped down during the ride crowded in to be heard. He wished he could strip down right there in the kitchen, but he knew about the time he'd be standing there buck-naked, Hugh would appear in the doorway with a question he'd forgotten to ask. He headed slowly to the wood box, minimizing the irritation to the rash that now shot pain to some very interesting places with every step, and grabbed a few split logs to get the stove fired. A match and kindling brought a flame quickly. He warmed his hands over the budding fire, and then replaced the burner plate and continued his cautiously-paced walk up the steps to his room.

The thought of tugging dry pants over the inflamed skin set his teeth on edge, so he detoured across the hall to his father's room and borrowed a nightshirt from the dresser. Hop Sing's jar of salve was in his father's room, and he grabbed that too. A quick look at his path confirmed what he should have realized would happen: his soaked boots were leaving a trail of wet footprints. He sat carefully on his chair, and exerted a Herculean effort to get the soggy footwear from his feet. He glanced up when he finished peeling off the wet socks, and grumbled as he saw the empty log caddy next to his fireplace. He'd intended to bring firewood upstairs, but he'd passed through the living area without a thought of stopping.

"Your memory is going, old man," he chided himself as he inched back down the steps and filled two log slings with enough fuel for the night. It didn't make sense to build a fire downstairs since a good blaze in his room would heat the smaller area quickly and warm his bed in the process.

Once flames were dancing on the dry wood in his fireplace, he stripped out of his clothes, toweled off, and spread a goodly amount of salve onto the complaining sections of skin. The relief was immediate, and he sighed thankfully before sliding the nightshirt over his head and donning his robe and slippers. A rumble in his stomach reminded him to head back to the kitchen.

His supplies were dwindling but he found a slice of ham and enough eggs and bread to make a meal. The coffee was left over, but he couldn't remember anything tasting so good…especially after he added a goodly amount of whisky to the brown brew in his cup. He looked around until he found a tray and loaded it with his plate, cup, the coffee pot, and the bottle. A last glance assured him that there was nothing near the stove that could start an unintended fire before he snuffed the lamps, grabbed his meal tray, and went back upstairs.

He could hear rain pelting the roof as he ate while reading a book he'd started when he was still in San Francisco. It didn't take long before the food, liquor, and warmth of the room plied their sedative effects and he felt too drowsy to do anything but stoke the fire one last time, blow out the lamp, and crawl into bed. There wasn't a more soothing comfort after a long day of work. Pa had spent good money on the furnishings for this house, but he'd spent the most on their mattresses. A good night's sleep at the Ponderosa could cure many ills. He settled onto his back, pulled the blankets up to his chin, and was snoring in seconds.

Adam stretched in the pre-dawn darkness as he walked to the window and smiled over how much better he felt. He could see the pines in the yard swaying in the wind, and the lack of moonlight or stars spoke to continued cloud cover. But the absence of rain was a distinct improvement.

He'd left a pitcher of water near the fireplace before he'd turned in, and the water was still warm enough that he could wash comfortably. He dressed in his last set of clean clothes, and looked at the basket of things needing to be washed, considering whether he should stuff them in a bag and take them along to the laundry in town. The ride was going to be hard even with the improved weather, so he decided against having added bulk hanging from the saddle.

After tugging his bedding back into some semblance of looking "made", he padded through the dark house in his socks and found little in the cupboards for breakfast. He didn't want to bother gathering eggs or fuss with making biscuits, so he opened a can of peaches to eat while he made a list of supplies he'd get in town. He made coffee and heated water for dishes, and attempted to clean up his mess from the previous days. There wasn't time to finish, so he laid towels on the table and set the utensils out to dry. Yet, even his quick efforts had restored some order, and that lifted his spirits even more.

He took a few minutes to write reminders of everything he needed to accomplish in town. The first was to find Paul Martin and get him out to the ranch, followed by stopping at the bank and feed stores, and checking on Hop Sing. He'd finished writing and was sticking the folded sheet in his pocket when he heard a knock on the door.

Hugh smiled as Adam swung the door open and invited him inside. "You look better this morning. I was worried I'd find you coughing and fevered."

"I think I was asleep within an hour of getting inside, and it's amazing what that much rest can do." He gave his foreman a head-to-toe perusal. "You seem to be holding your own as well. How's Mike?"

"We're both fine."

Adam nodded. "Did you check on the others?"

"Mike stuck his head in. Some of them are feelin' a might better but most aren't. I hope we can get the doc out here right quick." Hugh shifted from foot-to-foot. "I got the horses saddled. If you're ready, we can get started." The older man might have told Adam what to do when he was a teenager, but now the "boy" was in his late 20's and fully in charge of the ranch when Ben wasn't around. Hugh still offered his advice concerning the stock, but Adam had _earned_ his place as the head man through hard work and skill, and Hugh had no reserve about trusting his judgment. It didn't hurt that the kid was pretty danged smart too; could make a deal as good as his pa, and never hesitated when there was a tough decision to be made. "I don't mean to rush you, sir," he stammered as he continued to fidget. "It's just that…."

The younger man's eyebrow dipped as he smiled. "I must be getting old if you're calling me sir. I remember when you called me 'young Cartwright,' and I figured it was because you didn't know my actual name." He slipped into dry boots, grabbed his warm coat and a hat and poncho from inside the credenza. "C'mon, let's ride. The sooner we get there, the sooner you'll get back for our men." Adam touched Hugh's shoulder as they reached the door. "I know I'm not that kid you trained, and I have a lot more responsibility for the ranch operations, but you never have to call me sir. I owe _you_ that title, not the other way around. You taught me and protected me when I was a greenhorn, and helped Pa make sure I turned out right. I won't ever forget that."

Hugh sniffed loudly as he ran his coat sleeve across his nose. He met Adam's eyes and gave a quick nod before heading out the door into the lifting darkness.

 **Three**

Keeping a watchful eye on the road allowed for little talking between the two men. Hugh had gotten out ahead as they'd neared town, and came to a stop at the top of the final hill, surveying the scene ahead of him. He pointed as Adam rode up beside him. "Now what do make of that?"

Adam removed his hat, using it to shield his eyes from the light mist that still hung in the air. Every street into town was blocked by makeshift gates of lumber and packing boxes, and was being guarded by men with rifles. The main thoroughfare had a line of wagons stretching from the barricade, back to a hundred feet from where Adam and Hugh had stopped. The ones at the front of the line were unloading their goods onto the ground while shouting to the appropriate recipient on the far side of the slapdash wall. An empty wagon was approaching them on its way out of town, and Adam hailed the driver.

"What's going on?"

"Won't let nobody in or out of the city right now. We can leave our deliveries and the shop owners come out to retrieve 'em once we're gone, but we can't even get in to have a meal." The driver shook his head. "I ain't never seen nothin' like it."

Hugh asked, "Did they say why they got it shut down?"

Another shake of the head. "Some sickness goin' around, but they ain't much for small talk. That sheriff keeps us movin' and don't allow for no dilly-dallying or question askin'."

"Thanks." Adam called back as he waved Hugh ahead toward the sheriff in question.

Roy was directing efforts at the checkpoint but stopped to salute the pair as they came to a stop. He gave a few orders to the man who was helping him, and walked far enough away to talk across the barricade without disrupting the work.

"I'm glad to see you and Hugh up an movin', Adam. We was wondering how the outlyin' ranchers were faring with this mess." He put his hand up as they dismounted and walked toward him. "I have to ask you to stay back, fellas. We ain't supposed to have direct contact with anyone who ain't already in town."

"What's that about?" Adam asked as he pointed to the large board with red letters spelling "Quarantine."

Roy shook his head. "An older woman here with that revue last weekend, died Sunday. Doc Pinkerton**—that doctor from the mines the city hired—tended to her and said she succumbed to a high fever and pneumonia. By the time she passed, most of the other women in that troupe were developin' fevers and coughs too. That made him suspicious, and by Monday mornin', the bartenders and saloon girls from the 'Bucket,' and some miners who were at the show, were comin' down with the same symptoms. The doc said he'd seen something similar when he was in Boston, and knew it was no good thing. Flu, he calls it. The good news is that most of them girls are already feelin' better. It's the older folks, little tykes, and those who aren't so healthy to begin with who can die from it, and he said it would become an epidemic if it wasn't stopped in its tracks."

Adam pursed his lips. "I remember we had fever in the mines a couple of years ago. Paul said it was caused by the water. But this sounds contagious. Does Pinkerton think the showgirls brought it here?"

"Seems that way." The sheriff nodded. "No one in Virginia City was sick like this before the women got here, and the doc sent a telegram to Markleeville***, where the troupe last performed. The doc there confirmed a small outbreak of fever. Luckily it's a small town and it ended pretty quick. They had a similar spell of bad weather, and that kept everyone hunkered in their homes and it stopped with the few that had it."

"The older woman must have come in contact with someone who had it in Markleeville and she infected the girls while they were on their way to Virginia City. I suppose those ladies performed here even though they weren't feeling their best, and started the sickness going around to our fine citizenry."

"That's about it. The doc figures some traveler brought it to Markleeville before crossing the Sierras. But he was worried because this flu can get more potent as it makes its way around." Roy looked down and shook his head as he chuckled. "I know this ain't no laughin' matter, but I heard Paul said it was a good thing those women weren't in a choir that performed at the church instead of in the saloon. Those fine church-goers would have gone on with runnin' their businesses and mingling around town and would a spread it lots further. Most people from town stayed away from the Bucket on those nights because of the type of entertainment and the audience. I was lucky too. Clem was the one on duty last weekend, so I wasn't at the Bucket either."

Adam smiled wryly. "I suppose Paul is right about that. It seems to be contained."

"Yeah, but just because there ain't a lot of cases doesn't mean there couldn't be. Doc Pinkerton talked to Paul and the other doctors in the city…from a distance mind you, since he's the one who took care of the sick ladies. They all decided to quarantine the town until this runs its course."

Hugh's color had paled with Roy's disclosure. "We came for a doctor because our crew is sick. It started with the ones who came in for the show, and now even those who weren't in town are getting' it."

Roy nodded. "That's exactly what the docs were afraid of. Those who were in town are spreading to those who weren't. The bartenders from the Bucket made up a list of which ranches had men there on the weekend, and I'd planned to send someone to check on the Ponderosa later today."

"I'd like Paul to go back with Hugh while I do some business in town."

Roy laughed. "Neither of those things is going to happen, son. The docs say no one in: no one out until there ain't any new cases for a couple-a-days."

"So what do we do for the men?" Adam thought a moment. "And I have to get to the bank and…." His mouth dropped open as he considered a possibility. "Is Hop Sing ill? He was supposed to come out to the house and he never showed up."

The sheriff shook his head. "Don't worry none about your cook. None of the Chinese have it. Hop Sing has tried to get past the check points every day but he can't leave anymore'n you can come in." Roy saw a look of relief wash across the young man's face with the news. "Now about your men. The docs in town have split up the work. Paul was away for the weekend, so he's carin' for people who haven't had contact with the sick—you know, like the women expecting babies and such. Since Doc Pinkerton was already exposed, he's taking care of the sick. He says he might not get it anyway because he was around it before."

"That's a lot of work for one doctor."

"The gals that are feeling better are helpin' him. The troupe was stayin' at the Virginia City Hotel, so Doc commandeered the place for a hospital. He did the same thing with the Silver Dollar hotel and that's where he's puttin' those who had contact with them that are sick. That way, if they are gettin' it, they don't infect anyone outside this 'circle of contamination,' as he calls it. The rest of the people are stayin' away from both those establishments." He rubbed his chin. "How many you got sick on the Ponderosa?"

Hugh answered. "Fifteen men. Mike and me are still all right, but we've been around the others."

Roy looked from Adam to Hugh. "I want you to go home, bundle them up the best you can and get them in a couple of wagons with whatever else—blankets, mattresses and such—you can fit, and bring them in. You and Mike will have to stay at the Silver Dollar for a few days too." He saw Adam wince, cross his arms and look away. "What about you? Were you tendin' to them too?"

"I was in the bunkhouse for a few minutes on the first day when they were getting sick, but that was it. I still feel fine, and someone's got to keep an eye on our place." He sighed heavily. "How about I promise not to get close to anyone while I do what little I can out there alone? I'll come in if I feel ill. You know I'm good to my word."

Roy chewed his cheek and then sighed. "I guess it's only fair to let you protect your property until this blows over."

Adam pulled Hugh aside as they made plans, and then he sent the foreman on his way. Roy was back directing the unloading process, and he motioned him over again. "I know you're busy, but I need some things from town, and was wondering if you could help me?"

"What kind of things?"

He pulled his list of supplies from his pocket. "I could use these…." He looked around and realized that everyone on Roy's side of the fence was occupied. He grinned broadly at the sheriff before continuing, "…if _someone_ could run down to Cass's. I also need cash from the bank to pay for stock that might arrive tomorrow, and I'd like to send a couple of wires."

Roy chewed on his nail this time while he thought. "I can help you with the supplies. We're allowing wagons to unload orders for the businesses in town. But you know that the money for the banks starts coming in on the stage from San Francisco this time of year, and we haven't been able to arrange a delivery with Overland. I think they'll be able to send a courier from Carson or a nearby way station on the weekend, but cash might be running a little low. How much you need?"

Adam looked around. He and Roy weren't exactly shouting at each other, but they were standing far enough apart that he was sure others could hear if they had a mind to listen. He said, "Two thousand. And don't think I didn't see that look you gave me when I mentioned a delivery at the ranch. I won't get near them. In fact one of the telegrams I'd like to send is to Thunderbird, telling them what's going on. With the bad weather, maybe I'll catch them before they leave. The other wire is to my family."

"Aren't Ben and your brothers taking the stage to Placerville?" He saw Adam nod. "I'm sure Overland has signs posted about the quarantine, so your pa probably knows of the problem."

"They leave tomorrow, but I'll advise them to wait."

Roy laughed loudly causing the others working around them to look up. He harrumphed and told them to get back to work. "Once Ben hears there's trouble back here, he'll probably start walkin' home. You can 'advise' him all you want, but it won't do no good."

Adam smiled begrudgingly as a light blush colored his cheeks. "I suppose you're right about that. Pa will charge into the fray if he even _suspects_ one of his sons is in trouble."

"It'll take them a couple of days to make it back, so you should be in the clear…or sick by then. It's only takin' a day or two to spread from one to another." Roy gave his friend a fatherly look. "I know you wouldn't want to make your family ill, so you're gonna have to honor that promise to come back." Roy pulled a dog-eared piece of paper from his shirt pocket and rested it on a crate while he grabbed a pencil stub from his hatband. "Now tell me what's on your list, what you want the telegrams to say, and I'll go do your errands." He looked up and grinned. "But don't get any idea that I'll do this ever again."

 **Four**

Ben had gotten up early and walked to the Overland office to verify their departure for the following day. He'd finished quickly and was on a mission as he strode into the Cosmopolitan Hotel and acknowledged the desk clerk's greeting while making his way across the lobby. The Cartwrights were frequent guest of the fine establishment, and treated well because of it.

"Mr. Cartwright," the clerk called out, stopping Ben as he neared the staircase. He nodded toward the adjoining room. "Your sons are at breakfast."

"Thanks Nick. You saved me a trip up three flights." Ben headed in the opposite direction, giving Nick a salute as he passed him on the way to the restaurant, and then waved to Hoss when he saw his sons sitting near the windows on the far side of the room. Hoss and Little Joe were just digging into heaping plates of ham and eggs, and he motioned for the waitress; pointing to his empty cup with one hand while fishing in his jacket pocket with the other to remove a folded sheet of paper. He smoothed it out as he set it on the table.

Little Joe read the first word. "What's this about Pa?" He used his fork to point to the word that had caught his attention. "Where's there a quarantine?"

"Virginia City." Ben saw the eyes of both sons pop open.

Hoss finally managed to swallow, and picked up the paper to read the rest of the notice. "Doesn't say much exceptin' that the stage won't be going in there until the quarantine is lifted." He stared at his father. "Did you find out what's happenin'?"

"Nathan, the head man at Overland, was at the office when I stopped by. He said there's sickness there, and Doctor Pinkerton and the rest of the doctors in town decided a quarantine would work best to keep it from spreading."

Hoss had continued to eat as his father and brother had talked, and finally pushed his plate away, leaning his arms on the table. "Do you think it's the same kind of fever we had back when we had all them men sick at the mines?"

Ben blew on his coffee before taking a sip, and then shrugged. "I don't think so. Paul didn't quarantine them back then; he quarantined the water." He sighed heavily and frowned. " _This_ must be passed from person-to-person."

"Well…it sounds like the docs have things in control," Joe said, trying to sound encouraging. He smiled at his father. "I can see that you're worried, Pa, but he'll be fine."

A small smile replaced the frown. "Am I so easy to figure out?" he laughed as both boys nodded. "I'll arrange for our suits to be taken back to Frankie's home. All we need do is toss our traveling kits together; we'll leave for home in an hour."

"Ain't you forgettin' somethin', Pa? Our stage to Placerville leaves tomorrow, not today." Hoss patted his father's arm. "I know yer anxious to get back now, but we can't go until the stage does."

"The best news Nate gave me was that the regular stage schedules have started again. Since the Virginia City stop is out, they're sending that stage to Placerville and then across the Carson pass, rather than by the northern route it normally uses. Overland has mail and bank transactions for Virginia City and they're going to drop it at Carson City instead of a small way station that wouldn't be equipped to hold the cash or transport it the rest of the way."

"That makes sense, but what's that got to do with us?" Little Joe pushed his chair back and crossed his arms.

Ben smiled broadly. " _That_ stage leaves in an hour. Nate says there's only one other passenger." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out three vouchers, "Now there's four."

"We'd best get movin' then." Hoss stood and stretched.

"You boys go pack; I'll take care of the hotel bill and have the restaurant pack some food for the trip."

 **Five**

Art Finley looked over at his brother while reckoning that they'd been sitting on their horses by this danged barricade far too long. They weren't getting inside Virginia City and it made no sense to sneak in; not with a sickness going around. He was anxious to move on up the road; procure a little cash and then buy a drink somewhere with a pretty girl to serve it to him. One town was as good as the next. They never stayed long since the method they employed to "earn" their wages couldn't be repeated without risk of being caught. He and his brother had worked real jobs in the long ago, but they'd found an easier way to keep going.

His impatience had become unbearable and he started to ask something of his brother, but only managed to utter, "Hey Colin," before he was hissed…and waved to silence. A loud sigh signaled his annoyance as he drifted back into thought. He and Colin were nomads. Someone had called them that when they'd shared a campfire and Colin had told the fellow traveler that the Finleys called no place home. Art had asked what the word meant, and the man had explained that nomads keep wandering, never putting down roots. He'd liked that word enough to put in his memory. The guy at camp had said nomads were often traders who made their money selling goods. That wasn't quite like him and Colin though.

When the Finley boys came to a town, they'd watch the stores until there'd be a good run of customers. Then they'd go inside and look around while talking like they were going to buy a heap of goods. They'd wait until everyone else was gone, and then Colin would lure the shopkeeper to the far side of the store with questions about some item. During the diversion, Art would slip to the cashbox and take just a "little" of the contents so the absence wouldn't be discovered until that night when the receipts were matched to the cash. They'd pull the same scheme at a however many stores were in the town; assuming that no one would report a missing pittance. With as little as they took, they truly expected that most owners thought they'd given wrong change rather than that they'd been robbed. This activity didn't make them rich, but it gave them enough to get to the next town, and it didn't lead to arrest. But this method couldn't net enough to replace what was wearing out, and they'd been talking about finding work again and settling somewhere for a while to make ends meet.

Colin was done with whatever had been holding his attention, and Art followed his brother as they moved their horses to a patch of grass away from the noise and activity. "Why'd you shush me?" Art's peevish tone did nothing to hide his grumpiness.

The older brother shook his head. "You'd do well to pay attention 'stead of driftin' off in thought like you do. The sheriff and that guy were discussin' a bank withdrawal." He looked upwards as he thought about his plan. "You know we barely get by with what we're doing. Most of these two-bit towns don't have more'n one mercantile, and stores in bigger towns are gettin' them noisy cash registers, 'stead of using boxes. I'd held out good hope for this here town cuz there'd be lots of places to hit. We could have stayed a couple of days if we'd a been careful. We'll go to Carson City now, but I'm gettin' weary of it."

Art nodded. "Our pockets do empty faster than we can fill them. Carson's as big as Virginny City, ain't it?"

"Yup, but after that we're back to small towns and pennies." Colin looked over and focused on the person whose conversation had held his interest. "That guy," he pointed quickly, indicating the man standing alone at the blockade, "just asked the sheriff to get him 2000 dollars from the bank. The man he rode in with left already, so he's gonna be leaving out on his own with the cash."

"So?" Art shrugged. "What's that got to do with us?"

"You really are slow-witted." He gave his brother a chance to figure out the opportunity, and finally sighed. "He's gonna be carrying a lot of money, and ain't no one leaving here 'cept him…and us."

"And a bunch a wagons," Art added.

"I heard some of the drivers talkin' about him after he showed up. That fella owns the biggest ranch in these parts. He'll take a main road for a while, but his property butts up to town, so once he's on his own land, we'll relieve him of his heavy burden," Colin laughed at his portrayal of the money pouch.

Art's mouth dropped open. "But you always said we wouldn't never rob no one outright so we don't go to jail. And besides, this guy'll have people out lookin' for us in no time." The color drained from Art's face. "Unless…. You ain't talkin' about killin' him, are ya, Colin? We ain't never even hurt a livin' soul, except in their pocketbooks. I thought we was gonna look for jobs instead."

Colin was smiling ear-to-ear. "I could hear enough of his talk with the sheriff to know that his men have to come to town because they got the sickness. And he was talkin' about his family comin' back from someplace, but not for a few days yet." He looked around to make sure no one had gotten near them. "I been thinkin' this through some, and we'll have to take his horse with us for a while so he don't get anywhere too quick. He'll get back here or to his house after some time, but we'll have a good start by then. We'll cover our faces and change into our spare shirts so we won't match the description he gives." He could see that his brother was still not happy about his plan. "Listen, Art, we will get jobs, but this will give us what we need to get to where we're goin' without stoppin' at every waterin' hole to thieve a couple cents."

 **Six**

Adam watched Roy walked away, and smiled cheekily at the prospect of the sheriff doing his errands. He was still chuckling at the situation when he noticed the hint of a shadow on the ground in front of him and glanced upward to see that the low-hanging clouds were breaking up, revealing small patches of blue sky. There was still much to worry about, but a sense of relief replaced his cold unease as hazy sunshine created a skyscape worthy of a Michelangelo fresco. Streaks of light began to reach the ground, and the immediate warmth made him sweat inside his layers of clothing. He shrugged off his poncho and opened the buttons of his coat before pulling a book from his saddlebag. It was his habit to carry books in his kit to provide diversion during long hours keeping watch over the herd…or waiting for his brothers to show up. Reading from his "saddle library" was prone to interruptions, so he usually chose works of poetry, novellas or collections of shorter works.

But the current book was a novel by Wilkie Collins, called, _Woman in White_. He'd read stories of intrigue before, but this was touted as a new genre known as, "mystery writing." Adam had enjoyed what he'd managed to get through so far, and he was anxious to move further through the tortuous plot. He chuckled as he remembered where he'd left off; a part of the story where a main character overhears a nefarious plan, but becomes soaked and chilled in the rain and contracts typhus before she can tell others what she knows. He grimaced at the similarity to his state of chilled wetness the day before, and the exposure to the illness his men had. "Luckily I've not heard of any misdeeds being planned, so I should be safe," he mumbled to himself. He led Lightning to a boulder that looked flat enough to use as a chair, and let his horse munch on the scrub grass next to it. He tossed his poncho over the damp rock to prevent a repeat of yesterday's rash and got as comfortable as sitting on granite would afford before opening to the new chapter.

He'd only read a few pages when he heard his name being called from the other side of the barricade. "Paul," he called back, setting his book aside and moving closer.

"I saw Roy outside the Western Union office; he said you were waiting out here while he did you a few favors." The doctor grinned. "That's not something you see every day. He also said you seemed fine, but you were in the bunkhouse with your sick crew at one point, so I thought I'd come check on you, even if it is from afar."

"Thank you, Paul, but I wasn't with them long, and I didn't check their foreheads for fever." He grinned back at his friend. "Roy said most of the people in town are getting better. Hugh went back to bring our crew in, and I hope that'll be true for them soon." He saw a whisper of sadness cross the doctor's face as the man looked down at his feet. "Out with it, doc. What didn't Roy tell me?"

Paul motioned for Adam to move farther away from prying ears, and spoke in a quieter voice. "Most of them are getting better but there have been a few deaths."

"Then it's more serious than Roy let on?"

"Yes and no." Paul sighed and rubbed his hand across his forehead. "The younger, healthier men are recovering." He smiled crookedly. "When it comes to cowhands and miners…healthier is not an accurate description. But their body-wracking jobs and bad habits aren't taking a toll yet, and this flu runs its course pretty easy."

Adam nodded. "There's a brotherhood in being 'ridden hard and put away wet,' as they call it. They're not all like that, but the allure of 'cowboy life,' where you owe nothing to anyone other than a hard day's work, draws a lot of loners and eccentrics." He paused as he thought about his crew. The men who lived and worked together 24 hours a day sometimes became a family of sorts. At other times the mix of personalities proved volatile, and he and his father would cull the crew of troublemakers with the same precision they used when they culled the herd to keep it strong. The current occupants of the Ponderosa bunkhouse were as good as it got in a crew, and the thought of losing any of them to this disease saddened him. He pulled from his thoughts to ask, "Who didn't make it, Paul?"

"Jess from the Triple B; Davey, the man who cleaned up at the Bucket for drinking money, and Slim from the mines."

"I think I know who they are." He pursed his lips and closed his eyes as he offered a silent prayer for mercy on their souls. His eyebrows nearly met and his nose wrinkled as he pictured the three men. "They were all in their 70's weren't they?"

"You'd have thought so. They were gray-haired or bald, nearly toothless, and so stooped as to appear they'd shouldered the weight of the world far too long…but two of them were around your father's age, and Jess was even younger." He saw Adam's eyes shoot open as his jaw sagged. "I know your father probably works just as hard as those men did, and when he gets done with outside work, he still has to do the ranch paperwork. I've thought about this some, and have a theory. Ben has always seen his work as providing a legacy for your family. He relishes each day as a new challenge to make a difference. It keeps his mind young and active, and that reflects in his overall wellbeing. Jess, Davey, and Slim lived a minute at time, with no thought to the future other than collecting their wages and going on their next bender. I think that ages the soul as much as the body."

"I think you are a good study of human nature, Paul." Adam smiled at the doctor. "And you do know my father well. I'd suspect most people think Ben and his boys live in the lap of luxury. We buy things that are made well, and that usually means they're more expensive. But Pa is a stickler for returning much of our earnings back to the land or for helping others who haven't had the success we've had. I've always admired his commitment to that mission."

"It's one of the reasons I think so highly of your family. And speaking of helping those who needed a hand, I'm on my way out to see Mary and Emit Hendricks. Don't think they haven't told me how your family set them up with that place."

"I don't think I've seen Emit and Mary since last fall when I went over to pick up our supply of fall vegetables." He considered Paul's reason for the visit. "I hope they don't have this flu."

"You probably know that they're expecting a baby, and it's due soon. I want to make sure they're aware of what's going on in town, and warn them to be careful."

The conversation was interrupted as the two men heard shouting. Paul glanced over his shoulder and laughed when he saw Hop Sing trotting toward them carrying a well-packed basket. His braid was swinging back-and-forth with his uneven pace; his face was flushed with the exertion, and he was hollering, "Missa Adam!"

Paul grabbed Hops Sing's arm, and yelled, "whoa!" as he neared the barricade, figuring the Cartwright cook would scale it if he wasn't stopped. The doctor knew this man was a lot more than an employee to the family on the Ponderosa, and a few boxes and fence rails wouldn't stop him if he was intent on getting to one of them.

He thought back to when he first got to Virginia City and met the family of the Ponderosa Ranch…and their powerhouse cook. It had been obvious that the man had cared for each of the Cartwrights and doted on then.

Ben Cartwright had been one of the first residents to use his services. There'd only been three Cartwright to care for then. But he'd heard about another son who was away at school, and was "purdy durn smart," by Hoss's account. The missing child had arrived home a few years later, and Ben had brought Adam to the office to meet the "new" doctor in town, and get him checked out. There'd been nothing wrong with the returnee, and after he'd listened to the young man's heart and thumped his chest, the two of them had spent that first meeting talking as they'd extended the doctor-patient connection towards friendship. It hadn't taken many more meetings to feel like he'd always known the college-educated, rancher-cowboy, who'd lived up to Hoss's description and then some.

Adam and Hop sing were still talking, so he let his thoughts drift to the problem of Adam being around his sick men. Illness was an infrequent visitor to the oldest Cartwright son, but when it paid a call, it came in hard and nasty. Paul couldn't say why that was, except that Adam would never "admit" to being was sick until he had no other choice but to "submit" to it. By that time his strength had been used in pushing himself to exhaustion. The other Cartwrights saw illness as an inconvenience they accepted grudgingly. They'd take to bed and recover. But this one fought against it even when he was down; refusing to rest even then, and usually making himself worse for it. The young man also had a predilection for serious injury. He'd always wondered whether it was Adam's bad luck to sustain them, or his good luck that had allowed him to survive.

He pulled from his thoughts for a moment as he heard Hop Sing and Adam arguing about laundry. The mundane topic made him smile because he knew that when Hop Sing was that adamant about clean clothes, it had a much deeper meaning. A cold chill breathed down his neck as he recalled what he'd been pondering a moment ago. Adam _had_ been exposed to his sick men, and as usual, he was refusing to stop or even modify his activities during the incubation period. He sighed and shook off his concern, trusting that Adam had been truthful.

"I'm sorry to break in," he offered walking toward the pair. "I should get going. Since the Hendricks' place is on Ponderosa land, I'll be using the same roads you did coming to town. How bad are they, Adam?

"Slick in spots, but passable. And with the sun and breeze now, they'll dry up fast except where there's standing water. Take a horse instead of your buggy. It'll be easier to avoid the potholes."

"I can do that." He looked pointedly at the man across from him. "If you feel any signs of getting sick—even if you sneeze or wake up with a headache—you get back here! I shouldn't let you ride off today, but you won't rest if I keep you here either. Normally, you'd be in the clear by now, considering how long ago you were exposed." He grinned. "But we both know you're not normal."

Adam laughed as he nodded. "Yes doctor." His teasing tone turned serious. "I understand how serious this is. Give my best to Mary and Emit." The grin returned. "I'll be heading home as soon as Roy gets back. Don't worry; I won't come near even you even if I find you up to your ears in mud after your horse bucks you off."

Paul shook his head and turned to leave, waving a goodbye over his shoulder as he walked toward town.

With the trio reduced to a duet, Hop Sing picked up where he'd left off. He set the basket on a crate and pointed to it, and then to Adam. "Take with you. Not want you in dirty clothes. Fresh bread in bag. Take too."

Adam directed Hop Sing's attention to the horse that was munching contentedly on grass. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I came on horseback. I can't get that basket home." Noting the look of sadness and forcefulness that had set on his friend's face, he finally conceded. "Let's do this. You put out two sets of clothes, and I'll get those in my saddle bags." The smell of the fresh bread was drifting to him and his stomach rumbled. "And I'll gladly take the bread. Just leave those things on that crate and I'll get them after you leave."

It took only a moment for Hop Sing to separate the items Adam had asked for, although he grumbled the entire time. He finished and then looked up at Adam. "Roy say our men sick and you maybe get it."

"Don't worry about me."

"Do worry. I should be at house. Ben Cartwright not be happy he come home and find son sick while Hop Sing hide in town."

Adam's smile was warm. "I know you want to come home." He looked down as he tried to come up with a solution to give the cook something he _could_ do to keep his mind off what he _couldn't_. It came to him in a flash. "You could help me in a different way."

Hop Sing's look went from melancholy to interest. "You talk to doctor and get me outta here and I help you any way you say."

He laughed. "You have to stay put. But Hugh is bringing our crew to town for the doctor to treat. He and Mike have to stay here too, but at the other hotel. The men are going to need good food to recover, and they won't get it at those places. I'd be grateful if you'd make something every day and drop it off for them. I know they're pretty fond of your cooking."

The Mandarin's smile turned downward along with his head, but he was grinning when he looked up again. "I know they like Hop Sing's food. They wipe pot with bread before bring back. It so clean I don't wash." He chuckled at his joke. "I make them well with good Chinese broth, homemade bread, and apple pie.

"That's perfect. Thank you."

He waited until Hop Sing had gone before moving forward to pick up his clothes and bread. One set fit in each saddlebag, and he was going to attach the bread bag to his saddle horn, but the aroma made his mouth water. He withdrew the loaf instead and tore off the end. He took the remainder along with him to his rock to eat while he read.

 **Seven**

Art had tired of waiting in the saddle. He'd grabbed a piece of jerky and found a rock to sit on; much like the prey they were watching. That guy was reading and eating the bread the little guy with the funny clothes had brought him, and the thought of fresh food of any kind made Art's stomach ache. The brothers lived on trail food: beans and jerky mostly, with the occasional critter when they managed to shoot or snare one. But his teeth were so bad that chewing the dry, hard meat was becoming a problem. He gagged and grabbed his canteen to help with swallowing the piece he'd manage to soften up with the molars he still had.

His thoughts turned to his brother's plan. He didn't like the idea of putting themselves in a position where they might be caught and jailed. Two thousand dollars would let them live like kings for some time, and that possibility helped ease his fear some. That rich rancher might not even miss what they were taking from him, and they'd be far better off for having it.

He glanced over at his horse. The saddle did little to disguise the sag in the old girl's back. She was missing as many teeth as he was, and she didn't seem to be eating enough because of it. She was slow and coughed whenever he'd push her a little harder, and he knew she'd need to be replaced sooner than later. There was no way they could save enough of their pitiable takes at the stores to buy a different mount, and it would be hard to find work without a horse.

When he looked up, he saw Colin walking toward him, wearing an eerie smile.

"The sheriff is back. He nodded toward the barricade. He's been gone a long time, but I s'pose he got stopped a few times along the way." He looked longingly toward the pile of boxes. "I wish I could get back close enough to hear what they's talkin' about, but that might make them suspicious. I did go closer when the man in the suit came by. I think he was a doctor and they was talking about other stuff, so I mingled in with the guys from the wagons." Colin reached down to give his brother a hand standing up. "I think we best wait just a minute to see if the rancher leaves once the sheriff gets done talkin', and then we'll trail him until there's privacy to do our deed."

Adam looked up from the last page of a chapter to see Roy heading toward the edge of town. "He stowed his book and the remaining bread and walked to meet the sheriff. "That didn't take as long as I thought it might."

"That fact may not be a good thing," Roy breathed deeply to catch his breath. "The telegraph line is down because of the wind. Jack sent men out, but they have to find the problem before they can fix it."

"I'm not surprised." Adam sighed. "It was a longshot to catch either the Thunderbird crew or my family before they left anyway." He nodded toward the cloth bag suspended from Roy's shoulder. "Looks like Cass's store was open for business."

"I got what you wanted there, but it was a different story at the bank." He withdrew a flat envelope from his inside vest pocket. "I was right about the cash. Mark said there was a small bank rush when people heard about the quarantine. Folks get skittish when there's any kind of problem, and want their cash instead of an amount written on a piece of paper 'sayin' what they got."

Adam bit his upper lip and nodded. "I understand their rationale. Cash in the hand is always preferable during uncertain times. Was Mark able to come up with any money?"

"He gave you a bank draft for the full amount. He says the Ponderosa's reputation is so good and widespread that any bank'll cash it out as long as they know the person who offers it for redemption."

"Thunderbird insisted on cash…." He closed his eyes as he thought about it. There was cash in the safe at home, but he'd used much of it to pay out wages and then the bonus to the hands that had stayed behind on the weekend. He did a quick calculation, deciding there was enough there that he could offer some to go along with the draft as a sign of good faith. He completed his thought. "They'll have to understand that leaving with a draft is better than not completing the sale. I'll be persuasive."

"I bet you will." Roy laughed as he deposited the envelope and sack on a box. "I have to get back to town. There's some trouble brewing with a few guests who think we're being unreasonable in not letting them leave. I need to check with the docs and see if they'll allow it since the folks weren't even close to the Bucket, and only had the misfortune of being in town when the sickness hit."

"And if they don't allow it?" Adam smiled.

"Then I might just have to move them travelers from the International House to the fine establishment known as the Virginia City Jail until the docs say different." He returned Adam's smile. "I can be pretty persuasive too."

 **Eight**

Adam was still chuckling at Roy's comment while he tightened the cinch he'd loosened during the wait, and checked to make sure his parcels were secured before swinging onto the horse's back. "C'mon, Lightning, let's go check on those fat steers and then get home." He figured Mike would have finished most of the morning chores by the time Hugh had gotten back for the men, but he also knew that was all the help he was getting until his family returned. It didn't bother him; he'd just prioritize things that had to be done. At least the stock was accounted for. He might need to get some feed out to the group he was going out to check, but Pa had once said that the Ponderosa could take care of itself for a little while, and that's just what it would have to do now.

He rode along the main road from town until turning onto Ponderosa land. He could see the prints he and Hugh had made coming into town, and two sets heading out. He figured Paul had used a different exit point from town to avoid the congestion at the main barricade. The day had become cool and sunny, and he was able to bring Lightning to a trot as long as he stayed to the side of the road. The big horse's ears perked up at the same time Adam heard what sounded like a horse whinnying in the distance. He stopped and stood in the stirrups, surveying the countryside around him. Being on a rise afforded him a full view for some distance, but he saw nothing, and decided it was the wind.

With the town quarantined, he was truly the only one on the "loose," and that turned the left side of his mouth in a wry smile. He went on for several more miles and saw where Paul had turned off toward the Hendricks farm. The doctor used his buggy most times, but Adam knew him to be a fair hand with a horse. That was borne out as he considered that the depth and distance between prints from the doctor's horse indicated he'd kept a good pace.

He'd gone for another few miles before noticing that he was very thirsty. A shake of his canteen confirmed it was empty. There'd still been some in it when he'd returned yesterday, and Hugh must have thought that would be plenty for the trip to town. But he'd used that to wash down the bread he'd eaten while waiting for Roy. Luckily there was a spring fed pool not too far from where he was now, and he could cut overland from there to get to the herd. His decision made, he steered Lightning into the grassland to make the needed detour.

"Keep that nag quiet!" Colin gave Art a glare that should have struck him dead. "That voice'a hers carries on the wind, and he'll hear us over here if we're not careful." The brothers slowed to widen the gap between them and their person of interest, while still keeping him in view.

"She can't help it, Colin. She ain't feelin' well near as I can tell, and she don't do it much." He reached down and patted her mane. "Bessie was around fourteen when I got her; that's some equal years back already, and she ain't had an easy life with us." He looked his brother in the eye. "We got to see about replacing her when we get that money, or we'll both be riding on Jasper."

"Or you can take up walkin'," his brother snarled, and then laughed. "You're right about her. She has looked long in the tooth for some time." He giggled. "Or at least in the couple teeth she's got left."

"Don't talk mean about Bessie. She's been a real good horse, and I'll be sad to see her go. I know it won't be much longer." His doe-eyed look made his brother stop laughing. "Besides, we can see that guy real plain and speed up once he gets to where he's goin'."

"I suppose you're right about that. It's pretty flat right here, so we'll stop a bit and talk about how we're gonna take that money when we get the chance."

Adam sneezed as he dismounted, and sneezed again as he walked toward the clear spring pool with his canteen. _It's nothing_ , he convinced himself. _Just dust in my nose_. He also convinced himself that the increasing achiness in his back and shoulders was the result of sitting on the hard rock while he read, and the soreness he felt as he swallowed was from the crusty bread. He felt "fine" otherwise, so he refused to worry…. The long draft of cold water brought a soothing relief to his dry, scratchy throat, and he remained on his knees to splash water on his face and top off the canteen.

He was still leaning over the water when he noticed another reflection in the ripples of the pool. There was no mistaking what it was, and he blew out a resigned breath as he stood and turned around. "Oh." He smiled wickedly as he looked over the man standing there with a bandana over his face, holding a gun on him. "A real, live bandit." He knew he was supposed to be afraid, but his fear had vanished when he caught sight of the handkerchief mask that was so wrinkled and crisp with use that it barely extended to the man's upper lip. A quick head-to-toe perusal ended with him looking at boot leather so paper-thin that it had already begun to peel and rip. Adam understood that this man was there for no good, yet he was moved to compassion as his gaze rose back up toward the bandits face, and he noted the threadbare shirt with frayed cuffs, and then the broken down horse standing some ways away.

The mare was so thin Adam could see its bones, and it was breathing with such difficulty that the poor thing's ribcage nearly collapsed with the effort of each inhalation. He chuckled as the situation both touched a soft spot in his heart and brushed his funny bone. He'd been thinking he was alone, but he'd been pursued by this would-be bandit on a worn out steed. He nodded toward the horse. "You can rob me, but I think I can catch you on foot when you ride off on that sick mare."

"Hush up!" the man commanded. "I'll have that gun from yer holster and that envelope you got in yer jacket." After thinking a second, he added, "And I'll take that horse you got too."

The brothers had decided that Art would do the actual robbery. For one thing, the authorities would look for a single person instead of a pair then, and the other was that Art was tall-built, and far stronger-looking than Colin. They'd caught up to their quarry little-by-little, but the guy had seemed so unaware of them that they'd covered the last bit quickly when they lost sight of him over a sandy hill. His brother had veered off to stay out of sight, and Art had walked Bessie the last of the way when he'd seen the man kneeling at the edge of the water. He'd been even more surprised when he'd been able to sneak up behind the guy.

So far things were going the way Art had seen them in his head. He hadn't even thought about taking the guy's horse, but the comment about Art's inability to get away rang true. Bessie's breathing problems hadn't improved even when they'd slowed their pace, and after pushing her for the last mile or so, she'd wobbled and side-stepped to keep her balance when he'd dismounted.

He hadn't thought he could pull this off, but something had clicked in him when he'd held that gun on the man and demanded the envelope. He'd felt powerful for the first time in his life, and he'd been able to think things through. Exchanging horses would give them a chance to get long gone before anyone could look for them, and they could alter the brand or sell it once they were far enough away. The horse he would get in this one-sided trade at gunpoint was a good one—better than anything they'd ever afford, yet there wasn't anything special about it to make folks question him having it. But even from a distance, Art could see the fine leather of the man's saddle, and he knew that _would_ bring attention. It wouldn't match the rider who'd be sitting on it, and people might be inclined to wonder why an empty-pocket nomad would have one such a fine thing.

The moment of exhilaration passed, and the reluctant bandit decided he didn't really like what he was doing, and on top of it, this man wasn't taking him seriously. Art towered over him by a number of inches, but that didn't seem to make him any more respectful than the gun that was pointed at his chest. Colin had told him to keep the upper hand, and he knew something had to change. He took a step closer to grab the man's expensive pistol, and then swung the butt of it against the guy's head, causing him to step back in surprise as it connected. Art snarled, "You taking me serious now, mister?" Before the man could answer, he pointed toward the horse and shouted. "Take your saddle off and put mine on that animal along with the bag of supplies. Then I'll relieve you of the two-thousand dollars you got."

Adam hadn't expected the pistol whip and his head stung as he walked ahead of the robber's gun toward Lightning. "It's okay, big guy," he soothed, as he slid the saddle from his horse. The gun was poking at his back as he moved to the sway-back to remove that saddle. "You poor old thing," he whispered to the failing horse as he patted her neck. "You deserve a rest."

The leather he cinched on Lightning was nearly as worn out as the horse he'd taken it from, and he turned toward his captor. "I can tell by your horse and equipment that you've had it rough for a while. You must have heard me talking to the sheriff to know how much money I'd asked for, and it must seem a fortune when you've been living on little or nothing. But you couldn't have heard what Roy said when he came back with the envelope."

"What're you talkin' about?" the bandit growled at him.

"The bank didn't have cash, and gave me a draft instead." He gave his mugger another thorough looking over, noting how badly the gun was shaking in his trembling hand. "I don't think theft at gunpoint is something you're familiar with." He nodded toward the gun. "A man who's made a career of robbing others wouldn't show his nerves like that."

"Hush up. We want that envelope! I don't want to hear no more of yer talkin'."

"I have an idea that will let both of us get on with our lives." He waited to see if there was any interest, and saw a moment of uncertainty in the man's eyes. "I like horses, and the one you've been riding deserves a few last days of good grass and cool water. I'd like to give her that, so I'll trade you even up for the one your saddle's already on. I'll even write you a bill of sale, and you can go on your way. But if you take the envelope, then you'll be guilty of larceny, and what's worse is that you'll have nothing to show for it."

"Just give it to me. I know yer just lying about it so's you keep yer precious money."

Adam reached carefully into his jacket to extract the envelope and held it up. "Look at how thin this is." He turned it around to prove that it wasn't holding much. "Two thousand dollars in cash would nearly burst the seams, but there's nothing in here except a piece of paper."

"It's probably a two-thousand-dollar bill."

"There is no such denomination." Adam reconsidered the conversation. "Do you know what a bank draft is?"

"It don't matter what's in there; we still want it."

Adam sighed long and hard. It was obvious that this person had no idea what a draft was: probably never had more than a few dollars to his name. The situation made him more sad than angry. It might have been different if the draft had been made out for cash, but this one bore the name of the Thunderbird Ranch. "Aren't you going to look inside?" he asked after the hard-up bandit grabbed the envelope. "You'll see what I'm talking about, and maybe you'll reconsider my offer."

"I could shoot you right now and ride off with everything you got."

"But you won't. I'm a pretty good judge of men most times, and I'm betting this isn't the life you want."

"Don't matter what I want or don't want. It's what we gotta do."

"Is it what your partner wants?" Adam asked, and grinned wryly at the man's surprised expression. "Don't bother denying it. You've said we several times, but you're so used to being together that you don't even notice that you use those plurals. And I've heard another horse snort off to our left a few times. You'll both end up in jail. That paper you took is worthless to you, but it still has a value of two-thousand dollars, and that's what you'll be charged with stealing—along with horse theft."

Art's grin pushed the dirty bandana up on his cheeks. "But you just said you'd trade out the horses, so they can't get us fer that."

"I did offer a trade, but you can't have it both ways. You can't rob me and still claim I gave you the horse."

There was something about this man that Art trusted. "Why would you do this: I mean give us a way out?"

"I'm a Cartwright. We give second chances when we think they might be in order. I doubt you've had many breaks in your life; maybe it's time you got one."

Art didn't know what to do. His brother was waiting and he had to make a decision. He'd learned that men lied when it suited their purpose, and along with his inkling of belief, he had a larger fear that he was being played for a fool. He walked up to the man he now knew as Cartwright, and stuck the gun in his chest, pushing him backwards until he was standing near the edge of the pond. "Thank you for the horse, and we'll figger out how to get at that money, so thank you for that too. Now I gotta be on my way."

Cartwright made a grab at the gun as Art stepped away, but his height advantage and longer arms allowed him to hold the man far enough away that his efforts were worthless. Art finally gave the guy a good shove backwards, making him lose his balance at the edge of the pond and fall in. He swung atop his new horse and rode off laughing as his benefactor coughed and sputtered, while spitting out the water he'd swallowed. There was no need to wonder how Cartwright felt about what had happened; his disgusted look said it all. Art waved and shouted, "Why do I get the feeling this ain't the first time you got someone so riled up they pushed you in the drink."

 **Eight**

Adam was not happy with being drenched for the second day in a row. _At least I have dry clothes and it's not raining_ , he thought grumpily. Another thought hit him along with a loud, hacking cough. He wasn't supposed to have contact with others, and now he'd just been nose-to-nose with someone, and he was pretty sure he'd coughed on him during the struggle for the gun. There'd been a few symptoms of "something" going on for the last hour or so…but…it wasn't as though he was "sick." The word, "but," stuck in his throat like a ball of wool. Putting all his symptoms together were enough to make him at least wonder if something was brewing. And if so, he'd just exposed another man who could carry it to his partner, and then to everyone else they met. The fear over the chain of events he might just have started made him move a little faster.

The coughing started again as he undressed, and as he caught his breath, he tried to reassure himself that his robber had a covering over his face. But…and there was that word again…he'd laughed when he'd first seen the mask that hadn't even covered the thief's mouth. He knew he needed to get back to town and talk to Roy. He was feeling queasy now, but he wasn't sick, so there was no problem…. He went with that conclusion for now to settle his mind, even while knowing that the two men had to be found and quarantined.

He had no alternative but to walk. He was pretty sure the mare would fall over if he so much as put his saddle on her back. The trek back to Virginia City would take most of the day, but then he remembered that Emit and Mary Hendricks lived a mile or two west as the crow flies. He could borrow one of their horses… from a distance.

The thieves had taken his gun and rifle, but thankfully, his canteen was still floating at the edge of the pond. He grabbed that and set off across a grassy field as he thought about where the two fugitives might go. They'd have to ride toward a town. With the dire straits the one he'd seen had been in, he knew they were going to have to get money soon. He assumed they were petty thieves; probably stealing from Peter to buy from Paul, and had thought they'd hit the jackpot when they'd figured to take a good sum of cash from a lone rider out in the wilderness. He thought he'd convinced the one that there could be a better way out of their dilemma. There'd been a spark of hope, but it had vanished, letting Adam know that this was not the member of the pair who made the decisions.

He trudged through the field while considering the best way to handle this development. Roy could send wires to surrounding communities, warning them to be on the lookout for the duo…and to keep their distance. He could give a description of at least one of them, and Lightning had a distinctive, gray-speckled patch on his rump that could be identified without getting too close. His heart sank as he wondered whether the telegraph lines were fixed, but that worry would have to wait.

He'd been walking for a while when he stopped for a drink. The weather had done a complete turnaround, and now it was sweltering hot. He'd left his wet coat behind and had even rolled up his shirt sleeves a while back. A breeze stirred the grass around him, and it chilled him as it blew across his sweat-soaked skin and clothing, making him wonder if the air temperature wasn't as high as he thought it was. _Maybe it's my temperature that's high_. He quickly turned his thoughts to other things and he smiled as he considered another possible outcome to the flight of his assaulters.

With as hapless and inept as the one had seemed, the pair would probably get lost. They couldn't ride the roads for fear of someone recognizing Lightning, or wondering what they were doing out there. This section of the Ponderosa had easily ridden pastureland with plenty of fresh water and shady spots to rest, but that would change dramatically as they headed south. The areas between where they were and where they needed to be were unforgiving to anyone who wasn't familiar with them. His father's years on the sea had made him an excellent sailor on the land too, and he'd taught all three of his sons how to use the sun and stars for direction. Chances were this pair had made their way by roads and dumb luck in the past, but that wouldn't be enough this time. He laughed loudly as he pictured them riding in circles until they were so lost they wouldn't be able to find themselves.

Little Joe opened one sleepy eye after nearly bouncing out of his seat when the coach hit a deep rut. He could hear Hoss still snoring next to him. Nothing seemed to wake the sleeping giant when he was in deep snorin' mode, but Joe could see that his father was still wide awake and staring out the window. "He'll be fine, Pa." He smiled and stretched. "You told us to get as much sleep as possible, but you aren't following your own orders."

Ben grinned sheepishly. "I can't sleep. And I know…if Adam isn't fine, there's not a thing I can do about it from here."

"Except worry?"

"I worry about all three of you." His gaze returned to the window to watch the miles disappear between them and Placerville. "You know Adam," he prophesied without turning to face his youngest son. "He'll push himself even if he is getting sick."

"Yeah, I know. He reminds me of someone else in our family. You and Adam always fight being sick to a knockout—where the illness wins handily."

Ben was grinning as he turned back. "I've been more willing to admit I'm getting sick over the last few years. It was harder back when you boys were young and I had so much more responsibility."

"Are you admitting that my brothers and I are a help around the ranch? I'd assume that's what you meant." Little Joe leaned forward, grinning ear-to-ear, waiting for an answer.

"I suppose that's exactly what I mean." He rested his head against the seat. "I also suppose I don't tell you how proud I am of all of you, and how thankful for your help—at least not often enough."

Little Joe watched his father's face fall to a deep frown, and knew that his thoughts had turned again to the unknown state of his older brother's wellbeing. His attention was drawn to the windows just as his father's had been. He sighed. "It's too bad the telegraph lines were down. Maybe we can try again at Placerville."

Gurgling and snorting indicated that Hoss was waking up too. "A fella can't get no sleep with you two talking," he grumbled. He took one look at his father and knew what they'd been talking about. "We'll get home soon enough, Pa."

"As long as you're both up, I think we should talk about our plans." Hoss sat up straighter while Little Joe angled himself more comfortably into the corner of the seat. "The stage is making good time, and there'll be a full moon so we should be able to change out drivers and continue moving through the night. That will put us in Placerville by morning." Both boys expressed their gratitude for the speed, and especially for the room created when they'd dropped the other passenger off shortly after they'd started. Ben quieted them to continue. "We'll ride out immediately and keep going until we make the line shack at the far south of the Ponderosa. By then we'll need a few hours of sleep, and we'll go the rest of the way in the morning. I'd bet we'll be home by noon."

"We'll be pushin' it a bit, but our horses should be in good shape. With a few stops and some hours to rest, we should make it by then." Hoss stretched and rubbed his stomach. "Speakin' of noon, didn't it pass twelve some hours ago? At least my stomach says it did. Where you got them sandwiches stashed, Pa?"

"Paul must be long gone by this time." Adam was talking to himself as he crested the last hill and saw the Hendricks house below. His verbal thought was confirmed by the absence of the doctor's horse in the yard. The barn doors and house windows were open, so he knew Emit and Mary were around. He continued walking until he got to the outer edge of their yard and hollered, "Hallo Hendricks." He waved when he saw the curtains flutter, indicating someone was looking out. "It's Adam Cartwright."

"I have to ask you not to come any closer, Adam." Emit opened the door enough to stick his head out.

"I need a favor, Emit," he called out as he took a step forward.

Emit stepped fully in the doorway holding a shotgun. "Stay there, Adam. I don't mean you no harm, but Doc Martin was here a little bit ago and told us about the sickness in town. He also said your men got it. That means you could have it too."

Adam was sweating; his stomach was roiling either from hunger or something else, and he knew he would vomit if he thought about it too much longer. The wave of nausea was accompanied by a drum in his head. "I know that, and I won't come any closer, but I was robbed a few miles from here. They took my horse, and I have to get to town." He didn't mention that he was thinking he might have to check in with Doc Pinkerton, because Emit's worry about him being "sick" was a distinct probability.

Mary slipped from the house and stood next to her husband. "The doc said that I shouldn't talk to anyone because if I get sick it might be bad for the baby."

Mary's maternal "condition" surprised Adam. He was glad Paul had reminded him that she was expecting or he'd have been even more surprised. "You stay inside, Mary. I'll walk off a ways and Emit can saddle one of your horses and leave it in the yard."

"Doc didn't say nothing about how close or far away you could be, just that we shouldn't let no one on our land until this sickness is done." Emit stepped further onto the porch and pointed his shotgun at his unwelcome visitor. "I'm askin' you to leave now."

"Or what…you'll shoot me?" Adam's voice was rising in disbelief and anger, but he calmed himself again, figuring it would be better to try a different approach. "I know how important this baby is to both of you. But I talked with Paul in town just before he came out here, and we were no more than fifteen feet apart. He wasn't worried about catching anything from me at that distance. I really need your help."

Emit waved the shotgun menacingly. "I don't want to shoot you, Adam, but no court in the land would hold me wrong for protectin' my family."

Reason wasn't working so he tried humor. "Please put that down, Emit. You know you're not a good with a gun." He relaxed into a lean and pushed his hat back on his head as he chuckled. "Seems I went hunting with you last year and you nearly shot your foot off trying to peg that deer."

"That was then, and this is now. You know I don't want to hurt you, but I got Mary and my little'un to think of."

"I need help, Emit, and you know I wouldn't put you in harm's way. I'm not even saying you owe it to me; I'm just asking as one human being to another."

It was Mary who answered. "But if he goes out to where you was, then something might be out there that would get him sick, or maybe you'll get our horse sick."

The pounding in his head was becoming a duet of base and tympani and it was accompanied by a sudden unsteadiness that was spinning his head and stomach. In spite of his increasing infirmity, he was silently berating the good Doctor Martin for overplaying his hand with these simple people. He'd managed to make them aware of the danger, but he hadn't explained it well enough, and now they were applying their own flawed logic to the situation. "That's not how this works, guys. If you could just…"

Emit looked at Mary while Adam was talking, and said there was no reason not to give him a horse if he'd go off a pace like he promised. But as he tried to lower the shotgun, he hooked the butt hard on his loose-hanging shirt sleeve, propelling the entire weapon forward. His natural reaction was to pull it toward him again, while forgetting that his finger was still on the trigger. The weapon discharged in a thunderous roar and flash of fire and smoke. Emit could hear his wife screaming as he untangled the gun from the fabric. When he finally looked up, his mouth fell open in horror. Mary's hysteria had become a keening moan as she repeated, "What are we gonna do now." Emit sat down on the porch step, wrapping his arms arounds his bent legs and rocked until his wave of fear passed some. He had no idea what he was "gonna do now," but he knew he better think of something fast.

 **Nine**

 **(Two days later)**

Hoss rode up next to his father and touched his arm. "You gotta slow down, Pa. I know you're anxious to get home, but ya gotta remember that these aren't our regular horses. We didn't want to leave Chubby, Cochise, and Buck in a public stable fer as long as we was gonna be gone. These fellas are good and strong as they come, but we rode hard all day yesterday. Maybe Joe's horse can handle it, but our two are carrying a might more weight…" He stopped when he received a withering glance from his father.

The dismissive look dissolved into a grin. "So you're saying I'm too fat for this horse?"

The middles son's cheeks blushed scarlet. "Bucks a bigger horse'n this one. He knows yer riding style and would run his heart out for you. But these ain't used to saddle ridin' over long distances. We use them for a day or two when our horses need a rest or when we got company, but if we ain't careful, you and I'll be walkin' home."

"I get it son. There's a creek near the road up ahead. We'll stop for a few minutes." He grabbed Hoss's arm and gave it a squeeze. "It takes a good man to be honest. I do want to be home, but not at the cost of our animals."

"Thanks, Pa. I know you got bigger worries on your mind." The big man slowed his own horse until he was even with Joe again and leaned in to speak quietly. "We're gonna stop up ahead. But Pa's itching to be home like a man who used poison ivy to wipe his bottom."

The three returning Cartwrights rode into the yard and found the barn door open, general disorder, and the demanding cries of hungry animals. Ben's hands shook as he tried to tie his horse to the rail, and he finally let the reins drop without tethering them. He rushed through the house—straight up to Adam's room. Things seemed "lived in" as evidenced by used towels hanging on the wash stand, a bag of laundry standing near the door, mud-splattered clothing draped over a chair near the fireplace, and the remains of a fire. It was the same downstairs. Clean dishes were stacked on the table, and there were ashes in the stove. But the evidence of inhabitance wasn't recent. Towels were hard-dry and the ashes were cold. He knew that Adam had given Hop Sing time off, and the disorganization spoke to his absence. If he had to guess, he'd say Adam had done these things a day or two ago, rather than this morning.

Hoss and Joe had checked the outbuildings and met their father as he exited the front door. "Did you find anyone?" he asked.

Little Joe reported first. "The place is deserted, Pa. And what's even stranger is that the bunk house is empty."

"You said the no one was around, so of course the bunk house is empty." Ben's tone was edgy.

"That's not it, Pa," Hoss enjoined. "It's really empty. The bunks are there, but all the mattresses are gone and there's not a blanket anywhere. Either the men took everything along wherever they went or someone came in and raided the bedding. That don't make sense."

Joe pointed towards the pens and corral. "The animals haven't been tended, and the stalls need cleaning. Adam wouldn't leave things like this."

Hoss added, "Sport's in the barn, and he's got a poultice wrapped around his leg. It's been there a while cuz it's dry as a bone. He seems fine, but he's not happy about stepping in his own muck and findin' only empty feed and water pails."

Little Joe shook his head. "It's like everyone vanished."

"Is anything missing beside the men and the mattresses?" Ben asked as he looked around.

"Both buckboards are gone, and Lightning's missing from the near pasture."

"How do you know that, Hoss?" Little Joe shot his brother a questioning glance.

The big man shrugged. "Don't rightly know how I know; I just do. Buck, Cochise, and Chubby are out there. I'm guessin' that with Sport laid up, Adam is using Lightning. He broke that horse some years back and always cottoned to him. He took Lightning over the pass when he went to Placerville in January, figurin' he'd do better being stabled ther than Sport would."

Ben shook his head as he chewed on his bottom lip. "I don't like this one bit." Every part of him wanted to ride off to town and see if anyone knew what had happened. But another part of him knew that they had to do a few things at the ranch first. "Hoss, you get our saddles moved onto our own horses; tend to the ones we came in on, and take care of Sport." A quick nod to his youngest son brought Little Joe to his side. "Get the other animals what they need, but we'll wait on the rest of the chores until we get back from town."

"What're you gonna do, Pa?" Hoss had already loosened the first saddle and relocated it to the corral fence.

"I'll look again to see if there are any clues we missed, and then write a note for Adam in case he comes back once we're gone again. Then I'll be out to help."

 **Ten**

Mary stopped mid-way to the barn, and stretched from side-to-side to ease the pain in her lower back. She'd noticed cramps in her sides and biting backaches when she walked any distance for the last couple of weeks now, and it was more pronounced if she was carrying something, like the basket of linens she had today. Dr. Martin had assured her it was nothing to worry about; it happened to most women as they neared their time and their muscles were straining to support the baby's weight. The pain eased and she continued on, setting the basket at the back of the wagon.

"How much more we got?" Emit asked as he tossed the tarp back over the stack of their worldly possessions already assembled on the buckboard.

"I've got a basket of food, and you've got the cradle and chair you made, but we're almost ready." Her husband's nervousness was evident as he paced the dirt floor, sending up a cloud of dust. "Stop doin' that, Emit. You'll get everything filthy. I still don't know why we couldn't just pull the wagon up to the house and load it there."

"The Cartwrights might come by here before we're ready, honey, and I don't want them to know we're leavin'." He noticed that Mary was leaning hard against a post. "Are you feelin' all right? You look a might pale."

"It ain't nothin', Emit. I'm just plumb tuckered out. I know you want to get going, but I'm going to have to take a rest first. We'll make it to my folks by dark as long as we leave by three."

Emit just wanted to be gone after what had happened. Yet he'd only been protecting his wife and unborn child. It didn't matter how he saw it, he was still pretty sure Ben Cartwright would see it very differently. His thoughts brought him back to how they'd come here.

The Cartwrights had been trying to grow their own garden crops on a farm they'd purchased from a family that had to leave the territory in a hurry, but they hadn't been able to keep up with the work. When Ben had heard that Emit was looking for land and had plenty of farming experience, he'd offered them the place. He and Mary had lived there free for a few years already in exchange for a goodly supply of vegetables and hay for the Ponderosa. The deal had included something Adam had called a clause, that said they could pay on a land contract once they were doing well enough, and one day the place would be theirs free and clear. Just the other morning he'd done some figuring, and he'd thought he could start making the installments with the next crop.

Emit was the first to admit he wasn't a smart man, but he felt he made up for it with hard work and a knack for growing things. This land had been willing to produce, and while it had been hard getting started, things were looking good. He and Mary had wanted a child. There'd been a series of miscarriages, but with this baby just weeks from arriving, he'd begun to feel like he was king of the world. But wasn't that just what the Devil loved—a proud heart. And he knew now that Satan had been at his side two days ago when Adam Cartwright had showed up looking for a horse.

A fear had dug deep into his gut when Doc Martin had told them about the sickness in town. That fear had grown larger than his sense when he was faced with helping someone who might have the power to ruin what he and Mary had wanted for so long. Emit slapped the side of his head as he thought about how ugly he'd been to Adam: the man who had helped _them_ so often. Adam had shown up to do repairs when they'd first moved in, and helped design a system to get water out to some of the vegetables when it got too dry. He'd known how unfamiliar Emit was with the area too, so he had taken him out to hunt and fish, and learn his way around the land beyond his farm.

Adam's comment yesterday, about him not being a good shot was true. He couldn't hit the side of the barn at twenty paces. Adam had patiently re-explained the way to shoot true on every outing. He'd remind him to keep his eyes open as he squeezed the trigger, and "anticipate" the buck of the gun so he wouldn't raise the barrel as he fired. But he never got used to it. Adam had finally given him a shotgun instead of rifle, teasing that the shot might spread wide enough to hit something if he aimed in the general direction.

He breathed deeply and exhaled in a moan. He was glad that Mary had gone inside so she wouldn't see him in this torment. The sudden move away was already wearing on her. He knew she loved him with all her heart and she was saying all the right things. Doc Martin had told them that Mary had a few weeks to go yet. That hadn't been important when he'd said it, but by that afternoon it had become their saving grace.

Emit kicked himself mentally for not getting the horse as soon as Adam had asked for it. He'd let his fear build by listening to Satan whispering lies in his ears. He stomped his foot on the ground and shook his head. He'd known they had to leave as soon as the gun went off. Things would never be the same with the Cartwrights now. He'd taken care of what he could and then he'd gotten Mary to organize the household things and start packing up. They were out of time now. Doc Martin had said Ben Cartwright was expected home by the weekend, and it was here.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself to move forward and stop second-guessing his decisions. One day he'd stand before Ben and make an accounting, but hopefully not today.

 **Eleven**

The three men accomplished the needed chores at the ranch and made it to the outskirts of town in two hours. Ben pulled Buck to a stop at the back of a line of wagons waiting to drop their wares up ahead by a tangled bunch of posts and crates serving as a fence. He blew a hard breath. "I knew the city was quarantined. But this…"

"Looks a lot worse than we imagined?" Little Joe supplied. Ben and Hoss shook their heads in agreement. "I think I see Roy's hat in the middle of the group that's pulling stuff inside."

Ben was already moving. "Let's find out what's going on."

It didn't take the sheriff long to give the details, along with the reassurance that the crew from the Ponderosa, along with the missing bedding, was in town. He smiled broadly when disclosing that the quarantine would be lifted if there were no new cases in the folks of the town by tomorrow. "Rounding up those who'd been at the revue from the ranches and mines did the trick. Your men will have to stay put a few more days, but it looks like our measures stopped this from spreading beyond those directly affected. I'll tell you true; I'll be glad when this is over."

"That's good news, Roy. I'm sure you've had your hands full." Ben's pinched look had disappeared with the report. "Is Adam well enough that he could come out here. Otherwise, could you let him know we're back and see if he needs anything?"

Roy's eyebrows dipped toward his nose. "You must not have stopped at home. Adam isn't in town. He was exposed to the sickness from your men, but he wasn't showin' no ill effects from it, so I let him go back to the ranch to take care of things. He promised to come in if he started feeling poorly, but I ain't seen him in two days."

The worried look returned and was mirrored on the faces of Ben's sons. "We did stop, but he wasn't at there."

"Maybe he was just out doin' some work."

Ben's head moved back and forth slowly as he frowned. "That might be true, but I'd say no one has been at the house for at least two days."

Roy removed his hat and scratched his head. "I wish I could give you more information. He came to town for supplies and wanted money for some stock you was expectin'. I did his errands and got a bank draft for Thunderbird, but I'm not sure what his plans were after that." He paused, trying to remember something important. "Oh, the telegraph got fixed yesterday and a message came in from that ranch sayin' they aren't comin' until next week."

Hoss had been thinking during Roy's last statement, and broke in. "I noticed prints going the opposite direction when we was riding in, Pa, but I didn't pay much mind to them." He looked over at Roy. "Has it rained since Adam was here?"

"Not a lick, Hoss, why'd you ask?"

"Then them prints might just show us where Adam got to."

It was easy to see three sets of horseshoe markings dried into the mud once they were back on the main road to the ranch. Joe observed the prints from atop Cochise, and then looked up at his family. "I don't think they were riding together. Notice how they're on top of one another in most places. It could be that three people were riding single-file, but I'm betting they'll separate at some point and we'll just have to see where each leads."

"No we don't, Joe." Hoss got down from his horse and pointed out one print that hadn't been trampled. "See the notch in this one? I made that while I was shapin' Lightnin's new shoes, and hit the tongs with the hammer by mistake. It left a mark in the hot metal, but it didn't make no difference to the fit so I let it be." He took a satisfied breath. "We follow those to Adam."

The first prints cut off on the road going toward the house after a few miles. "I'm guessing that was Hugh," Ben ventured. "Roy said he went back to get the men, and we saw the wagon tracks when we went towards town earlier." He went silent as the suspicion hit him that wherever Adam had gone, he had never made it home.

Once the second set left on another side road, the three men urged their horses a little faster to follow the only set that mattered. "I bet he was going out to check the beef he was going to fatten in the pasture out this way," Ben hollered back to his sons. His heart slowed to a more normal rhythm as he decided it was possible that a problem with the herd could have made his eldest stay with them. "It would be just like Adam to get so absorbed that he'd forget to go home," he whispered almost as a prayer. He finished this thought with an actual petition to the Almighty.

Their journey to find Adam took another turn a few minute later when Lightning's track headed overland.

The two brothers stopped behind their father, and Hoss gave Joe's arm a swat while leaning in to speak quietly. "He's gettin' worried again. I hope we find something soon." He raised his voice so Ben could hear. "There's a spring over that way, Pa. He might a took a detour to get water."

"I doubt he'll still be there, but we'll know where he went after that." Ben turned and gave his sons a withering look. "And I might be old…and fat…but I can still hear just fine, so stop talking about me behind my back."

"Oh, this ain't good."

Ben heard the warning and turned Buck back to where Hoss had stopped. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I saw five sets of tracks outside town, Pa, but then it thinned to them three clear sets." He pointed down at two more sets of prints that crossed Adam's now. "I think someone was following him' maybe ridin' over a ways, far enough that he didn't see them. But they joined up here."

Ben nudged Buck to a gallop, covering the last half mile to the pond in seconds with Little Joe at his side. For the second time in an hour, the two men sat atop their horses; stunned by what they saw. Adam's black shirt, pants, and his mustard-colored coat were draped over scrub bushes, and his saddle was on the ground next to the oldest, most swaybacked horse they'd ever seen. "What in tarnation?" Ben asked of no one in particular. "I'm assuming that someone rode in on that old nag, and left on Lightning. But where's Adam?"

Hoss joined his father and brother after taking a good look at what the new prints might tell him. "Them two riders split up right after they started followin' Adam. Looking at that old gal over there tells me why some of the footsteps looked like the horse was draggin' its feet." He nodded toward the aged mare. "Her prints came here and the other set went off behind that sandy rise." He dropped from Chubby and walked the area. "I'm assumin' this guy got the jump on Adam, and that surprises me. He must not have been payin' attention; maybe he never considered there would be anyone else out here." He pointed to a scuffed-up spot in the dirt. "There was a struggle near the pool over there, and Adam's empty gun belt is over near the edge of the water by his clothes." He looked around the rest of the site." I get the feeling from that dried mud near the water's edge that Adam ended up in the pond and then changed into dry clothes. I remember Roy sayin' that Hop Sing showed up at the barricade with a basket of laundry." The saddlebag flap was open, and Hoss bent down to look inside. A set of clothes was stuffed in it, confirming his theory. "One thing don't make sense. Why did the guy change out saddles before leaving on Lightnin'?"

"Adam's saddle is pretty distinctive. Others might not recognize Lightning, but they might recognize that." Little Joe went over to pat the old horse. "She's in bad shape. Someone rode her near to death."

"Do you think they took Adam with them: maybe rode double on Lightning?"

"No, Pa." Hoss walked to a spot on edge of the clearing." I saw boot prints in the grass over here. Adam left on foot. What's around here?"

Ben surveyed the horizon and pointed west. "The Hendricks' farm is a few miles that way."

"That's right!" Joe mounted Cochise in one fluid sweep. "What should we do about that sick horse?"

Hoss laughed. "She ain't got much time left on this earth, and in my way of thinkin' she's got water and grass, so's pretty nearly in heaven compared to what she musta been through. I'll come back to get her once we find Adam."

Little Joe moved Cochise to the grassy spot Hoss had indicated. "You two can move faster on the road, but I'll follow Adam's tracks just in case that's not where he headed. I'll come get you if he veers in another direction."

 **Twelve**

Emit heard the horses approaching and a huge lump of fear lodged in his gullet. He had no doubt about who was outside. He'd thought about what he'd say if the Cartwrights came by before they were on the road, but just the thought of having to face Ben made his knees knock. He looked back to where his wife was waking from her nap. "Stay inside Mary, and be ready to go. We'll leave as soon as I get the Cartwrights on their way."

His hands were shaking so hard that he stuffed them in his pockets when he stepped onto the porch. Hello, Ben; Hoss; Little Joe." He nodded to each as they walked to the steps. "I heard you was away a while, so you can come up closer. Doc Martin said we had to be careful about lettin' anyone near us because a that sickness in town."

Ben felt the tremor in Emit's grip when he grasped the young farmer's hand in greeting. He thought it odd, but then remembered that he had been pretty shaky too as the time had neared for each of his children to be born. "We have a problem and think you might have an answer."

Emit produced a nervous laugh. "What can I possibly help you with? The Cartwrights are the ones everyone else goes to with their problems."

Ben smiled as his left cheek rose to meet his eye. "Is everything all right, Emit? You don't seem yourself today."

The young man looked down at his shoes and tried to breathe more normally. "It's just that Mary; I worry about her. I'd like to get back inside if you're about ready to be on your way."

Hoss had noticed the same skittishness and moved things along. "What we need to know is whether you seen Adam in the last day or two? We followed his boot tracks to your property."

"Oh that's what you wanted to know?" Emit's smile was forced as he tried to act unconcerned. "Adam was here two days ago. I talked to him, but we more so hollered back and forth. The doc said the men from the Ponderosa were sick and Adam said he didn't want to come no closer."

"What did he want?" Joe posed the question as he walked to the end of the porch and looked toward the barn.

"He didn't tell me much about it, but said he'd been robbed and they took his horse. He asked to use one of ours. I got Slipper saddled and brought her to the yard while Adam stayed a ways away until I got in the house, and then he got her and rode off."

"Did he say where he was going?" Ben asked.

"Said he needed Sheriff Coffee." Sweat was trickling down the sides of Emit's face, and he made a quick swipe at it with his shoulder. He thought hard to remember what he'd planned to say, and sighed gratefully as it came back. "Why're you asking _me_ about this instead of Adam?" His gut hurt more as he witnessed the anguish settle over Ben's face.

Hoss sent a quick glance toward his father before saying. "Near as we can tell, you was the last person to see him, Emit. Did he take the road when he left?"

"I was in the house by then." He hadn't meant for his tone to sound defensive, but it had, so he smiled, took a deep breath to calm himself and then shrugged. "I checked on Mary first off, and he was gone by the time I looked again."

Ben was anxious to follow the newest clue. "Thank you for the information. Give our best to Mary. And if my son should show up here again, please tell him to go home and wait there."

The three men said their goodbyes and then moved far enough away that they wouldn't be heard. Hoss shook his head as he drew a hissing breath through his teeth. "Something ain't right. When we rode here, I saw just one set of tracks going back _towards_ town."

"Wouldn't those be Adam's?" Little Joe's face contorted in confusion, but then settled into a knowing look. "Emit said Paul had been here? Did you see any evidence that a buggy had come this way?"

"I did not, and that's what's puzzlin' me. The tracks I saw going towards town were the same as the ones I seen comin' here; the same ones we saw turn off this way when we was following the original three sets. I'm thinking those were Paul's." Hoss let that sink in. "I know Adam loves to take shortcuts, but that road lays a pretty straight line from here to town so I can't see him foolin' around on some cross-country route that wouldn't save time."

"You've made some good points, son, but we have to follow this lead." Ben walked to a spot in the yard where half-moon-shaped prints indicated a horse had stood and moved around. "This must be where Adam mounted up."

The feeling that something wasn't right continued to nudge at Hoss. Before getting back on Chubby, he took a good look around and spotted something else that added to his unease. There was a wide drag mark from the near where the horse had stood, back toward the barn. Attempts to rough up the dirt did little to disguise it and he'd have liked to examine it further, but Pa was calling him to hurry.

Emit had already hooked the team to the wagon while his wife had rested, and he'd been thankful that he'd been cautious enough to leave the rig in the barn…just in case. His nerves had almost gotten the best of him as he'd paced the floor of the nearly empty house while the Cartwrights had talked near where Slipper had left the yard. He'd had to calm himself even more when he'd looked out the window and had seen Hoss looking toward the barn, fearing he'd come back to ask more questions.

He helped Mary carry out the final necessities, and they were on the road as soon as the trio disappeared over the hill to the north. He knew he'd have to move fast to get away before the Cartwrights returned—as he knew they would. The Hendricks' relatives lived due east of Carson City, and the trip by wagon could be accomplished in a little over two hours. He doubted they'd be followed, but Ben Cartwright was a mighty man, and Emit wasn't sure just what he might do after he found the note they'd left.

He could hear Mary sniffling next to him as turned for one last look at their valley homestead and bid goodbye to what had been their future until 48 hours ago. As he gave the reins a good slap to hurry the horses along, he breathed normally for the first since Adam Cartwright had set foot on the edge of their yard.

 **Thirteen**

They'd been riding for nearly an hour, and the frowns on all three Cartwrights had set like stone. Ben motioned for his sons to stop and leaned forward on the pommel. "We're riding in circles."

"That horse does keep backtracking to this same spot of grass." Hoss shook his head slowly and sent a knowing look to his brother. "We done followed every roundabout path…but one."

"Yeah, we even marked them so we wouldn't do them again. It seems to me that…" Joe waited a second to see if his father would come up with the conclusion he was edging toward. Ben's expression got even darker but he remained mute. "No one's controlling that horse."

Ben knew his sons were waiting for him to reply, but at the moment he was having trouble just breathing. It wasn't as if this was the first time he'd been in this situation. There was a lot of country out here, and he'd worried each time one of his boys had been delayed in returning. Most times they'd showed up within a few hours of their expected arrival; but a few times they hadn't. The odds had been against him finding them on those occasions, but so far, he'd been blessed in those endeavors. Here he was again, and somewhere deep in his soul, a dark shadow was taunting him, saying that his blessings had been paid out in full. Many memories whispered the confirmation of that possibility. He'd assumed he couldn't possibly lose three wives, but he had. He'd assumed that as his children got older, he wouldn't have to worry as much about them, but he did. And now the only clue to finding his son was a horse—walking in circles.

He looked up from his thoughts and saw the expectant looks. "I agree, Joseph," he answered in a sigh. "I have to wonder if Adam was getting ill when he was at the Hendricks' place, and became unable to control this animal." He held up his hand to silence Little Joe as his son opened his mouth to speak. "I know, son. If Adam had dismounted or fallen off, we would have seen that."

Hoss broke in. "There's a last trail outta here Pa. Now that we got the rest of the tracks sorted out, I can tell that Slipper went somewhere and didn't come back. The prints sort of angle in the direction of Emit's place but we didn't see them when we was ridin' here. So maybe Adam _was_ feeling poorly and tried to get back there, but got off course, and ended up somewhere's else entirely." He moved Chubby to the final set of tracks. "Let's finish this."

The tracks wandered a bit, but they finally headed toward the back of the Hendricks' homestead. Ben's face had reddened with anger as they neared the final downward path to the farm below. "I thought Emit was acting oddly when we stopped before, but I can't figure out why he wouldn't tell us that Adam came back here."

Hoss wasn't sure he should share his suspicions, but decided they needed to be aired. "Pa, I don't think Adam 'came back'; I'm thinkin' he ever left."

Ben's eyes opened wide in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

The big man's cheeks began to color. "I should'a said somethin' right away, but I thought it couldn't be other than as Emit said." He cleared his throat. "Adam ain't so big as I am, but two-hunderd pounds added to the back of any horse should deepen the print a might. I noticed that there weren't no difference in the depth of the prints between where it walked into the yard, and after Adam supposedly rode off on top of it. I put that off to the hard-pack ground around Emit's place. But I kept swallowin' down the uneasiness that there'd just been rain, so the difference should have showed in the spots that were still a little wet. There was none."

Ben nodded.

"There's more, Pa," Hoss breathed. "I seen that somethin' pretty good sized had been dragged away from the front yard."

"Why didn't you say something!" Ben's anger flashed, and then ebbed just as quickly. "I know…. There was no reason to suspect that Emit would lie to us."

The farm seemed deserted just as the Ponderosa had been. Two horses remained in the corral and Hoss checked their shoes, confirming that the gray dapple was the one they'd been chasing. Ben Sent Joe to the house while he looked in the barn.

They met in the yard where Ben reported, "Their big farm wagon and work horses are gone." He kicked the ground angrily. "They must have left as soon as we were out of sight. I wonder where they went…and why." His look of anger was replaced by confusion. "What'd you find, Joseph?"

"The house was empty, except for a bed and a few things that were there when they moved in, but I found this on the table." Joe handed him a folded sheet of paper with the words, _Ben Cartwright,_ printed on it.

The sun's glare made it hard to read the light pencil on the brown store paper, so Ben moved into the shadow of the barn. His sons stood on either side of him as he unfolded it, and began to read aloud:

 _"Dear Ben,_

 _"I pray one day you understand why we aint telling this to your face._

 _My Emit is not a smart man in the eyes of the world, but he is good, honest, and won't never hurt a soul, lest he thinks he's got no other choice._

 _The doc had just told of the sickness in town. He said most ranches had men down with it, and the Ponderosa was no differnt. Doc didn't tell us how far to stay away or if touching something a sick person touched could do us in, so Emit decided we'd just hole up at our place and not talk to anyone until we heard it was done._

 _Adam came by soon after, and we didn't know what to do. Your boy was always good to us, but Emit thought protecting me and the baby was a higher call than helping Adam right then. He told him to leave, but Adam kept pestering him about using a horse."_

Ben's face had colored beet red and his hand was shaking so hard that the paper rustled noisily. "Pestering him?" he shouted. "A man comes for help, and she calls it pestering?"

Hoss placed his hand on his father's shoulder and squeezed. "I ain't got words for how I'm feelin' right now, and I think this letter is gonna have me ready to bust somebody into little pieces when it's done, but let's finish it so we know where Adam ended up."

With a nod and a deep breath, Ben returned to the words.

 _"Emit held a shotgun on Adam. It weren't to shoot him, just to let him know he meant business about leaving. But we was moved to pity, and he was gonna get the horse. When Emit lowered the gun it got tangled in his shirt and it fired accidental. We didn't even know he'd hit anything until we looked out saw Adam on the ground._

 _There weren't nothing Emit could do, and I still didn't think he should get too near, so he put a tarp over him and rolled him up without never touching the body direct, and moved him to that cave we use to store the vegetables. Emit was sick inside, but said that just this once, we had to come first. He knows you'll make your way over here soon enough because you Cartwrights can track good as Indians, so he did something to throw you off in case you come looking before we're gone. I only tell you this so you know the whole story._

 _Emit brought a horse out to where Adam stood, and then shot his gun to scare it. It tore off and came back about two hours later. If you did come here then you know that he said Adam was here, but he borrowed the horse to him, and showed you the tracks. Following them should a kept you gone long enough for us to get away so as we didn't have to face your anger just yet._

 _About now you think us the biggest cowards ever lived, and you are right. He knows he done wrong, but if he owned up to it here, we'd have to go to town to make our accountings, and that means I could get sick. We'll be to his folks place near Carson, and we will tell the sheriff over there what happened soon as we arrive. I'm a witness to it being purely an accident. Emit weren't even aiming when the gun went off. I know your son would swear to that if he could. I don't guess my man will be charged with nothing more than being careless, and once the baby comes he will stand before you and listen to all you got to say._

 _I'm thinking you might be inclined to understand since I hear Ben Cartwright would walk to hell and back for one a his sons."_

Ben continued to stare at the letter that concluded with both names. When his initial shock wore off, he folded the death notice of his oldest son, and tucked it carefully in his jacket pocket.

Hoss walked away as he offered, "Emit's not handy with guns and I can see it happening just as Mary wrote. What I can't understand is how…they….could," He ran his sleeve across his eyes, unable to speak further.

"Let our brother lay there like a slab of meat while they sent us chasing our tails?" Joe's face crumbled with the outburst and he lowered his head into his hands.

"They're simple people, boys. I doubt they've ever faced anything so horrendous before, and could only see one way out. Leaving Adam didn't compare to what they thought they might lose if they stayed. I am as dumfounded and heartsick as you are, but I'll save my outrage for later. Now I need to take my son home." He turned toward the barn and steadied himself against it while allowing the watery haze that was clouding his eyes to clear.

They walked slowly to the side of the rocky hill behind the barn. Hoss moved out ahead to reach the heavy wooden door that he'd helped install on the cave opening. It had been Adam's idea to do this after he'd realized the cave was cooled with mountain snow melt passing through the soil around it. It was downright cold in there this time of year, but remained cool enough year round to store crops and meat. Watching his father trudge up the incline to what was now a tomb broke Hoss's heart. He'd assumed they'd all run once they knew where Adam was, but their short journey had seemed more like a pilgrimage. He reckoned none of them wanted to put an end to this story—not with this outcome anyway. He stopped his father at the door. "Let me go in, Pa. I'll call fer you once I know if…for sure."

There was enough light filtering through the open door that Hoss could see without a lamp, and he spotted what he'd come for once his eyes adjusted to the dimness. On the far wall was a ledge…with a body lying atop it. The tarp Mary had mentioned in the letter was partially pushed to the floor, while some of it still draped over his brother. He nearly tripped on the folds of the stiff canvas as he approached his brother and whispered, "Hey, Adam. We come to take you home." The skin on Adam's forehead felt cool when he brushed the hair back from his brother's eyes, but it wasn't as hard or pale as he'd thought it would be. He was grateful that Adam looked like he was sleeping rather than as he might have after being dead for a few days. "It must be the coolness in here," He mumbled aloud. He hadn't wanted his father to see his first son rolled up like a mummy in a dirty barn tarp, or disfigured by the toll of death, but this wasn't bad.

Something about this scene began to stoke a fire in his gut. It seemed that _Adam_ had pushed the tarp aside because the edge of the fabric covering him was clenched within his hand. If that was true, then he hadn't been dead when he'd been left here. His anger boiled. This may have started out as an accident, but had become something far different when Emit had run away, leaving Adam to die alone in this vault. He thought about Mary's assumption that there'd be no charges against her husband, but that just might change.

He blew out a long tortured breath as he pulled the tarp aside and he saw the evidence of the shotgun blast in the fan-shaped splatter of blood covering Adam's shirt. Something about this didn't seem right either, and he dabbed his finger onto one of the dark spots. The warm, wet stickiness made his heart start to pound, and he placed his hand flat on his brother's ribcage. "Pa, get in here," He yelled, turning his head toward the door.

Ben rushed in with Joe a step behind. "Stop shouting, Hoss! Be respectful." He removed his hat and bowed his head as he saw what he'd expected.

The smallest of smiles turned the big man's lips as he said, "Little Joe should go get Paul Martin."

"That can wait until we get Adam home, son. Let's all just be silent and offer our prayers."

He peered over his father's lowered head to look directly at Joe. "Do as I say, little brother. Ride for the doc, and hurry."

Ben looked up with anger blazing in his eyes as he grabbed little Joe's arm and told him to, "Stay Put." He fixed his gaze on Hoss and demanded. "What possible reason can you have for going against my wishes to bring Paul into this…this…misery?"

"There's one good one, Pa." He nodded to his brother's shirt. "Dead men don't bleed."

 **Thirteen**

Joe understood what Hoss was saying and was out the door and on Cochise's back in seconds. Ben stepped forward to do his own assessment, and looked back at his middle son with a crooked smile. "He's barely breathing, but I can feel a strong heartbeat. We better carry him in the house and get him warmed up."

Hoss moved his father aside and scooped Adam up, cradling him in his arms, and hurried toward the house, while repeating, "Hold on Adam. You're gonna be fine."

They'd managed to warm Adam by building a fire and using the bedrolls Hoss had left on their saddles when he'd relocated them earlier. "He's less cold now, and I don't feel a fever, so that's good." Ben smiled weakly at Hoss while holding his hand against his son's forehead.

Hoss offered, "Maybe now that we got that chill off, I can clean him up a little." With Ben's nod he pulled the blanket back, laid back his brother's shirt and gently washed the area around the pellet wounds. What he found under the blood and dirt made him breathe easier. "Luckily Emit buys cheap shells that are light on powder and shot. The ones we use would have blown Adam's chest off. Most of these ain't all that deep." He looked at his father and shook his head. "I can see this taking Adam down and hurting something fierce, Pa, but I can't understand how Emit thought he was dead. Adam's a tough bird. I can't even see him fallin' unconscious—or stayin' that way for long if he did. Yet when I think about Mary and Emit, I got no reason to believe she was untruthful in her note." He began to wash Adam's face and pulled the cloth away as he gulped. "Look here, Pa." He pointed to a rectangular shaped bruise on the side of his brother's head. "Maybe that's more the reason he didn't put up a fight. Emit knocked him a good one too."

"I can't believe Emit would try to kill Adam when he didn't die from the blast. Still…." Ben grew silent as he examined the bruise and sighed deeply. "None of this makes sense. Maybe Paul can figure it out."

The upheaval of the long day had exhausted father and son, and with Adam resting quietly, they dozed off too. Hoss jumped and was headed for the door as soon as he heard the pounding of hooves nearing the house. "They're back, Pa," he called as he went outside.

"It seemed like you was gone forever, but I'm betting it wasn't more'n two hours," he told his brother, pulling him aside as Paul Martin charged past them into the house. "Did you talk to Roy while you was there?"

"Of course I did. I told him as much as I knew about the robbery and the Hendricks. Emit and Mary were true to their word though. Roy sent a quick wire about both things to Carson City, and got an answer almost immediately saying that the Hendricks were at the sheriff's office." Joe scrunched his face as he thought. "Don't it seem odd to you that they didn't realize Adam was alive?"

"Me and pa came to the same conclusion, and then I found evidence that Emit might have smacked him in the head with somethin' to put him down. Did Roy wire back for Sheriff Clark to hold Emit?"

"There wasn't any reason for that. Roy let them know that Adam is alive, and he'll ride over to question both of them once the quarantine is lifted. Maybe by then Adam will be able to tell us what happened." His puzzlement turned to worry. "Do you think he'll make it, Hoss?" I mean he looked so…you know…that I couldn't believe he was still breathing."

"Time will tell, Joe. That's the only thing I know for sure."

Adam moaned and tried to move away while Paul dug shot pellets from his wounds, and he muttered something about "two men," but didn't fully waken.

Ben had sent Hoss and Joe home to get a wagon, and then had helped with whatever Paul told him to do. But his son was resting again, and he was done being patient. "Why didn't he wake up?"

Paul grinned. "Because he's Adam."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben growled, and then grinned back. "I suppose that could explain it. What's wrong with him?"

"The good news is that he'll do better now that the shot is out, but there are other problems. A couple pellets went deep, and I think they packed enough of a wallop that they might have bruised ribs. I didn't notice any shifting as I wrapped his chest, but I'll presume that there's some damage. The pain from that might be one reason he's breathing so shallowly. But that brings up two more serious problems. His lungs are congested…"

"Pneumonia?" Ben cut in.

"It could get to that. He doesn't have a fever, but that doesn't mean he didn't have one. I saw Adam a few hours before this must have happened. He said he'd been exposed to your crew, and I noticed that his cheeks were rosy. He claimed he was fine as a fiddle, but he has to half dead before he admits he isn't well." Paul saw Ben nod. "Little Joe told me that Adam had been laid out on a cold rock slab since the other day, and although that sounds awful, it probably brought the fever down if he did have one."

"That seems good. You said there were two serious problems. What's the other one?"

"There's that bruise on his temple. That might be the most serious injury…and the reason he's not awake. The coolness should have helped with that too." He cleared his throat. "I guess there's a third problem. After the first few hours, the cold in that cave might have started doing more bad than good. I'll know more once he's awake, but my best guess is that the flu had been creeping up on him for a day or two, and it probably hit him like a hard uppercut, taking him down for the count. He always does that."

"Joseph mentioned something on the trip home about how Adam pushes against illness until he takes a knockout punch."

Paul patted Ben's shoulder. "You know what this means, right?"

Ben's look bordered on panic. "He's not going to recover?"

"That was a leap, Ben." Paul laughed. "I think he'll be fine, but I don't know right now if what I see is the result of the gunshot, the hit in the head, the flu—or as usually happens with Adam—all three."

"I agree, Paul." Ben grimaced and chuckled. "It does seem like he can't ever be satisfied with having one malady at a time." He thought a moment and asked, "You said this means something?"

"The town has run its course with the flu and they want to open it for business tomorrow. For safety sake, I'll assume that some of what Adam's experiencing is from it, and that means we have new exposures: you, me, and your boys. Since the contact was made by a limited number of people, I think we'll quarantine the Ponderosa instead of extending it in Virginia City. I'll stay at the house too until the incubation period runs its course." He smiled and patted Ben's shoulder. I'd say that since Adam has no fever, he's not infective any longer. It's just best to not take chances."

"You'll have a room for as long as you need it, Paul, and if what you say is true, then it'll be more like a vacation for you. You can ride and fish while you wait it out."

Paul's smile widened. "I'll take good care of Adam, but I was thinking pretty much like you." The smile turned into a chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised if Roy might find a way to spend the quarantine at the ranch too. He'd probably like a vacation after all he's been through in town."

 **Fourteen**

Ben walked into Adam's room to relieve Hoss. "How's he doing son?"

Adam had been home for a full day, and while he seemed to be resting easy and even drank when a glass was put to his lips, he hadn't awakened.

Father and son walked to the door. "He keeps mumblin' about them two guys, and he'll sort of go into a fit, trying to pull his covers off."

As the two men continued to speak quietly about what needed to be done on the ranch, the man in the bed opened his eyes and croaked, "Am I dead or alive?"

Ben rushed to Adam's side. "You're home and doing just fine, son." He turned to Hoss. "Get Paul."

The doctor and Little Joe came running in together, and after a few minutes of prodding, asking questions, and listening to Adam's chest, Paul proclaimed. "Welcome back, mister. You had us all worried again." He addressed Ben. "The congestion is clearing, so there's no pneumonia. But," he looked at the others, and then to Adam. "I can say this now that he's awake and apparently unharmed. It's fortunate that you got back a day early and that you kept looking for him instead of assuming he'd come home."

"Why's that, Paul?" Hoss asked.

"I didn't want to add worry on top of concern, but his body temperature had gotten pretty low in that cave. I told Ben that was a good thing—at first. As time went on, the coolness kept slowing his body down, and would have gotten to the point where he would have drifted away without ever waking up."

"I heard about how you can get so cold that all you want to do is sleep," Hoss offered. "But I thought it had to be real cold, like getting' caught out in a blizzard or fallin' in a freezin' lake."

"That would do it faster, but I checked on that cave while we were waiting for you and Joe to bring the wagon, and it was very cold in there. Adam was unable to increase his body heat by moving around and he'd pushed the tarp away at some point, so he began to cool gradually, and eventually we wouldn't have been able to warm him up fast enough to counteract that. I'd say a few hours more would have done it."

"Do you remember being cold, Adam?" Joe asked the question and then chuckled at hearing a deep snore coming from the chilled Cartwright.

"We can wake him up again," the doctor advised. "He should drink something and try to focus so we know if there's any effect on his memory."

Hop Sing had arrived home early that morning when the Virginia City quarantine had been lifted for those who'd had no contact with the Bucket revelers. Roy had told him about the quarantine at the Ponderosa, but he'd accepted the risk and headed out with the wagon of ranch hands who'd recovered enough to go back.

The cook appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with cups of tea and broth at the same time Paul had given his prescription. He shooed the family away from the bed as he told the patient, "You eat. I told you I come home last time I see you. This not happen if you listen." The broken English stopped, and was replaced by something he said in his native tongue.

Adam nodded and gave a tired smile before saying something sounding like, "Sheyshey."

Hoss gave his brother a sidelong look once Hop Sing had gone downstairs. "You know what he said to you?"

Another nod. "I've picked up enough Mandarin to understand if he speaks slowly."

"So what'd he say? And what was that word you said?" Little Joe inquired.

"He wished for my returning health, and I said thank you."

"I think we should talk about the last few days before you rest again. We need to know what happened to you and where, so we can decide what needs to be done." Ben sat next to his son. "Maybe you can start at the beginning and tell us what you recall."

Adam gave the details about the crew being in town and getting sick, and the miserable weather that had made him organize the cattle as he had. He became agitated as he remembered that there were still several hundred head boxed in and looked to his brothers for assurances that they'd get out there soon. Ben rested his hand on his son's arm. "Some of the hands came back with Hop Sing, and they've already given us a report. Now tell us what happened to _you_. We were able to follow your tracks, so we know where you were, but not what happened in each place."

"I must have been followed by two men when I left town, and one approached me when I stopped for water. Did you see that old horse he left behind?"

"She's out in the corral," Hoss assured him. "I brought her here yesterday once you was settled. She's holdin' her own and eating up a sack of oats."

Adam's eyes flew open. "I remember why I went to Emit's place. I was starting to feel achy and coughing by the time I was robbed. The guy took my gun and clobbered me in the head with it, and when I tried to fight him for it, I coughed on him too. I wanted Roy to notify nearby towns to watch for those two, and get them isolated." He'd risen onto his elbow as he'd made his point, and collapsed with a cry of pain.

"Move a little slower next time," Paul cautioned as he checked the bandages around Adam's chest.

Little Joe spoke up. "I told Roy that you'd been robbed and that one of them was riding Lighting, so he sent telegrams to surrounding sheriffs warning them to be on the lookout. Paul told Roy to mention the sickness and to keep them separate if they showed up." He nodded toward Paul. "Our doctor friend had a pretty good hunch you'd been coming down with that flu."

Paul added. "Roy got a couple answers back while I was away getting my things to head out with Little Joe, and no one had strangers in town. And now that I've heard about you being drenched and cold, I'm positive you were coming down with something. Whether it was the flu or just exhaustion from your rain-day escapades doesn't matter."

Hoss listened patiently and then asked, "So it was them robbers who hit you in the head?"

Adam nodded. "They were hardly robbers. The one took my guns and the bank draft I had for Thunderbird, so he really didn't get anything. I even told him I'd trade horses. You'd have to see him to know why I'd do that. I don't think I've ever come across a person more in need."

Ben could see the tired look in his son's eyes and tried to speed the story. "So you got to Emit and Mary's place. They left a note saying you were dead. Do you remember any of that?"

"I felt wretched by the time I got there, and wasn't sure whether it was from being sick or the knock on the head. Emit was afraid I'd get Mary sick, and he even held a gun on me." He sent a scathing look towards Paul. "The good doctor had warned them to be careful, but they interpreted that to mean they couldn't even talk to me."

"Did he shoot you to keep you away?" Ben asked.

"Nah, Pa. You know how clumsy Emit is. He was trying to put the gun down when it went off. This must be the first time he's hit anything, and he wasn't even trying."

"Why did they think you were dead?" Little Joe inquired.

"I don't remember anything after hearing the gun about the same time the pellets hit. I blacked out, I guess." He looked around at the faces above him. "Did Emit bury me?"

Ben pulled Mary's note from his pocket and handed it to his son. "I keep forgetting you don't know everything."

He shook his head and handed it back when he finished. "I didn't think Emit was capable of all that diversionary planning. I remember waking up once. Something tight and earthly smelling was over my face and I pulled at it until I got it off, and then it's all a blank again. I honestly thought I was buried alive, and might have even hollered some, but I was too weak to do anything about it. I guess I was partly right." He grinned sleepily. "I can understand Emit clearing out before you got there, Pa."

"Well I can't. An honest man would have owned up to what he'd done, instead of running off."

"Not if owning up meant facing you." Adam yawned loudly and ended in a groan from his unexpected deep breath. "It takes a pretty solid man to face you, Pa. Emit will get there if you give him a chance. He has to learn that Ben Cartwright will listen before hollering, at least when it's someone other than his sons doing the talking."

Ben's anger wasn't diminished by Adam's attempt at humor. "Emit will not get anywhere near our ranch again. I don't abide cowardice. You know that, son."

"I don't think Emit's a coward; he'll face you just as Mary wrote. Maybe we need to take away his guns so he doesn't hurt himself or anyone else, but he's always just wanted to be a farmer; he's good at that, and we should let him be."

Paul called an end to the conversation as he saw evidence of increasing discomfort in Adam's grimaces. He gave him a dose of laudanum and cleared the room.

 **Fifteen**

Adam slept until the next morning when he felt well enough to want to get up. Hoss helped him dress and served as a crutch as the two brothers took the steps—one at a time. "Thanks," the older of the two hissed as he eased into the red, overstuffed chair.

His family and Paul brought their breakfast plates over to the square table in the living area so they could join him, while Hop Sing quickly relocated the extra eggs, bacon, and toast, and then brought the patient a bowl of oatmeal with cream. "You eat this. No want other food yet."

"Ain't you hungry? Hoss asked as he loaded enough on his plate to feed both of them.

"I sure am, but I think Hop Sing's right. I might have some of that toast if I finish the cereal, so don't eat it all."

"First come, first served, is what I hear." Hoss winked at his brother. "You just go ahead. I'm so glad to see you up and around that I'll go make you toast if there's none left." He dug into his meal and then stopped to ask, "What happened to Sport. He was limping some."

Adam frowned and sighed. "I forgot about that. He stepped into a pothole, got off balance and fell. If he's still limping, he might be hurt more than I thought."

"I don't see nor feel nothin' wrong in there. I'll do more liniment on that leg and then walk him to get the stiffness out. I brushed that old gal down too and gave her a wash. She ain't no young filly, but she's lookin' lots better. No one should ride her again, but she'll have some good days out in the pasture yet."

With his family working outside and Paul in the guest room pouring over paperwork he'd brought along, Adam was able to finish the book he'd been reading a few evenings ago. His chest still hurt, but with a small dose of pain elixir, he was able to stand and sit on his own. He'd dozed off and was startled when Hoss charged through the front door.

"Adam! There's a rider coming towards the house. He's on Lightnin'."

"Just one?"

"He's a ways away still, but I just see one."

"I was sure there were two of them." Adam's face fell into a deep frown as several thoughts ran through his mind. He'd probably been right about them getting lost, but with just one rider coming, had the other one taken sick after the contact they'd had at the pond, or was this a ruse? Was one of them coming in to talk, while the other snuck in a different way, waiting for the opportune moment to show himself? None of his questions could produce an answer. "I guess we'll have to wait until he gets here to find out what he wants. Tell Pa not to say anything away about recognizing the horse."

He smiled as his brother walked out the door. No one would be able to tell that the approaching horse was Lightning from the distance he must still be out…except for Hoss. And with Sport under his care for two days, he'd seen the tall chestnut prancing in the corral like a young stallion.

"Ben waved the rider to a stop as he entered the yard. "Don't come any closer. Our house is quarantined."

The man on Lightning nodded and dismounted. "You mean like Virginia City was?"

"Yes. There's a chance that someone here had that flu."

He stood holding the reins, pursing his lips while he took several deep breaths. "Would there be a man named Cartwright that lives here?"

"We're all Cartwrights," Ben explained. "How might we help you?"

The stranger gave them all a good looking over. "Is there another that ain't out here? The one I'm lookin' for is dark-haired, younger'n you, but about your height, mister."

"You must mean, Adam. He's inside. What do you want with him?"

"My name is Art Finley, and I come to make amends to A…" He stopped talking and looked across the yard as he heard a familiar whinny. "Aw, Bessie!" He ran past the others to the corral. The old horse had walked to the fence and nuzzled Art's outstretched hand. He stroked her nose and laid his head on her long snout, before turning back to his audience. "She looks good. Thank you for helpin' her out. I couldn't take care a her like I wished I could, and I thought she was dead for sure when I left her." Tears streaked down his cheeks as he focused again on his horse.

"We can stop the pretense," Ben declared. "We know what you did to my son. The reason the ranch is quarantined is that he might have been getting sick when you robbed him, so you will have to remain here until we know whether you have it too. We were wondering where'd you'd gotten to, and I'm relieved you've showed up. But I have to admit I'm curious as to why you did."

"We got lost, for one thing. This land of yourn is so big we got turned 'round and kept passin' the same rocks."

Adam had positioned himself by the door and laughed at the admission. He stepped outside and called, "So your name is Art. I have a pretty good idea why you're here, but I also have two questions. How'd you find the house, and where's your partner. He needs to be quarantined too."

Art left Bessie as the crinkled hanky from the robbery made an appearance to dry his cheeks, and walked to the porch where Adam was standing. "My partner is my brother, Colin. He's in the clump a trees out a distance waiting to see what'll happen. He was afraid you'd string us up for horse thieven', but I said you'd give me a chance to talk." He thought a minute. "Oh, I got here by lettin' that good ol' horse you traded for Bessie, bring me. I gave it a kick, let the reins loose, and it came home."

Ben, Little Joe and Hoss had made their way to the porch as well, and laughed along with Adam.

Adam nodded towards his family. "That guy who's about your size, is my brother, Hoss. He trains our saddle horses to come back. When one of them rides in without us, the others know that person's in trouble."

Hoss smiled shyly. "It ain't so much a matter of trainin'. I think them horses know where they'll find hay and a bucket of oats."

"You're all related?" Art asked as his gaze shifted across the Cartwright faces.

"My father, Ben Cartwright," Adam indicated the introduction with a nod. "And my brothers Hoss and Little Joe." The pain in his chest was starting to throb again. "I want you to ride out with Hoss and Joe and bring your brother back. You both have to stay here a few more days to make sure you aren't getting sick. You can tell me why you came to find me when you get back."

Ben followed Adam into the house when the others rode away; taking his arm as they entered. "I understand that those two will have to stay here for a while, but then you'll let Roy have them."

"I want to hear what they have to say first, Pa."

"He stole from you, and nearly killed you. I was talking to Paul, and he's leaning toward your near demise coming from that blow to your head."

"And a chest full of lead." Adam grinned and then grimaced. "Can we continue this once I'm sitting?"

Ben walked with his son to the living area and waited until he was comfortable. "You said Emit shooting you was an accident. But this…Art…, he knew what he was doing. He has to be held accountable."

"I just have a feeling about him. I know what he and his brother did was wrong, but they were so bad at it that I also know it wasn't something they'd done before. Maybe a little leniency could get them on their feet again and give them a different way to live."

"Second chances should be given by the law, not us," Ben growled as he pushed the logs around in the grate to add warmth to the room. When he turned back, he saw Adam grinning. "What's so funny?"

"I was just recalling a conversation that you and I had right here a few years ago when Jeb Drummond tried to take our land for his sheep. I wanted to bring in the law, while you said we should handle it ourselves. And as I recall, a kid named Billy would have put a hole in my chest except for his gun jamming. He also participated in my kidnapping…yet…"

"I know, I know." Ben sat across from his son. "We gave Billy a second chance because we thought there was more good in him than bad."

"I'm pretty sure Art clunked me in the head because I laughed at him. He made such an incongruous thief that I couldn't help myself. He was a big man with a strip of cloth covering his nose as a mask, and a broken down horse I could have outrun."

Ben laughed. "So you poked a bear and he poked back." A sigh. "I suppose we can wait for judgment."

Ben apprised Paul of the new developments and he examined the Finley brothers before they could begin their story. "Neither of you have fevers, and since it's been a while since you were in contact with Adam, I think you're in the clear." He addressed Adam. "I honestly don't think you had the _flu_ , but since I don't know for sure, we'll keep everyone here for another few days."

With the exams complete Ben looked towards Hoss and Little Joe. "Perhaps we should leave so Adam can speak privately with our…guests."

"No need for that, Pa. I'll want your opinion."

Hop Sing had been waiting for Paul Martin to finish and brought out a tray with coffee and sweet bread, telling everyone to, "Eat!" before returning to the kitchen.

Art had been looking around the room with his mouth open in awe, and he eyed the bread hungrily. When the plate made it to him, he grabbed two slices and downed them in two bites, washing them down with coffee. "I ain't had nothing this good in so long, I can't recall. We ain't had coffee for some time either, exceptin' sometimes when we'd go to a restaurant." He looked at his brother and laughed.  
"Well we didn't so much go there as watch from the windows 'til the waitress went into the kitchen. Then we'd hurry inside and make a quick round of the tables to finish the coffee people left in their cups; grab left-over food from their plates, and hightail it out again."

Adam shot a knowing look towards his father before asking, "How did you two come to be in such straits?"

Colin had sat quietly and blushed deeply at Art's admission. He cleared his throat; his shaky voice betraying his nervousness as he began speaking. "We had a nice life in Missouri until our ma and our baby brother died at his birthin. Somethin' went horrible wrong. Art nor I saw what happened, but we heard Ma screaming in pain, and then she went quiet, forever. We was eight and six at the time. Pa worked at the mill, and we took care a things at home the best we could. Me and Art helped clean at stores in town for extra money, and things was all right. We never had much, but we had enough." He looked over at his brother with a proud smile. "I never went to school, but I made sure Art got some grades in; enough that he can read and do figures."

Art picked up the story. "Pa weren't around much. His grief at losin' Ma was fierce and maybe we just reminded him of her. He weren't never mean to us or beat us like some pa's did, and he made sure we had our needs. But when we got to be twelve and ten, Pa came to us and said he was takin' a new, young wife, and she didn't want to raise no other woman's offspring. Then he said we was old enough to move along and gave us enough so we could buy a couple horses and get gone. He didn't even want us stickin' around town."

"Where did you go?" Adam asked as he noted the tiredness in both men's eyes.

"We bought Bessie and Jasper and hit the road." Colin's tone gave no evidence of accusation or anger. "We took odd jobs like we'd done back home at first, but we was either too young or too old it seemed. Art was still a kid, but he was a big kid and folks expected more of him that he could give, and they was mean as mountain cats to him." A shudder shook Colin's body. "We had to do some horrible jobs to make enough to get by. It seemed people knew we was desperate and I think they just wanted to see how far we'd go to earn a few cents."

Ben asked, "How long ago did you leave home?" Colin's answer of ten years made his jaw drop. He'd expected that these men were in their late 30's rather than in their mid-twenties. He saw his sons' surprise as they made the same calculation.

"Why did you come to find me?" The question came from Adam.

Art met Adam's eyes. "We ain't never robbed no person like that, and it made me stomach sick when I thought about what I done to you. Life's been hard, but we ain't never done to another what'd been done to us. Yer brothers told us what happened to you after we left, and I am purely sorry because I started them bad things." He waited for a reaction or Adam's anger but saw none, and continued. "I kept thinkin' about what you'd said about givin' us a chance, and convinced Colin that you'd spoke the truth. We had a few days to contemplate it while we was lost, and decided to see if you was honest like I thought." He pulled the dog-eared envelope from his pocket, and handed it to his host. "Since we brought the horse back and gave you this thing, might you work out a deal on a different horse that ain't worth so much? I'd be proud to work off the price. Colin's done ranch work, but I was too young when he done it to get the hang of it. I might learn it good now, or I can muck stalls and do whatever you got needs doin'."

"I'd do the same if you'd have me," Colin added. "We're both sorely tired of livin' as we are."

Adam saw his father's imperceptible nod from the corner of his eye. "You'll keep Lightning. You're a man of some size and you need a big horse. I'll have my brothers get you started on some work that needs doing. You'll stay in the old bunkhouse for now and our cook will provide your meals." He grinned. "You both look like you could use some decent food."

Art's grin brightened his entire face. "You got beds in that bunk house?" When all four Cartwrights nodded, he laughed. "I ain't never slept in a bed in my life. We had blankets on the floor when we was kids, and no one ever gave us board when we worked for them, so we hunkered in barns or out on the ground." He shook his head. "We don't deserve none of this, but some angel must a sat on yer shoulder and told you we'd be good for a chance."

"I don't know about angels, but all of us Cartwrights can recognize a man who wants to do better."

"So you'll train us as cowhands?" Colin asked shyly.

"I have something else in mind for now." Adam motioned his father over and they spoke quietly before he returned his attention to the Finleys. "There's a man who runs a farm for us. His operation is growing and he's going to need help. You'll work with him over the growing season and then stay here during the winter. You can pick up herding skills then. Once you've paid for Lightning and have a few dollars saved up, you can decide whether to stay or move on. You'll be able to find work anywhere by then." He watched for a reaction and saw relieved smiles on both brothers. "If we have a deal, Hoss and Little Joe will get you settled in. We'll all have lunch at noon. I have a feeling that Art will rival Hoss in consumption, and that will make Hop Sing very happy."

The house had emptied, except for Adam and Ben who'd remained sitting near the fire.

"You were right about those two deserving a second chance, son."

"Those two never had a first chance, Pa, and only time will tell if they'll be able to turn their lives around. But I'm betting _on_ them, not against them."

Ben rose from his fireside perch. "I'm going to do a little bookwork while you rest until lunch."

Adam reached for his father's arm as he passed the chair. "Don't think I didn't notice the similarities in the circumstances between the Finley boys and the Cartwright boys. It would have been easier for you to have left me with Uncle John or Grandfather back when you were heading out here, or sending Hoss and I back to live with your family after Inger died. I don't know what makes men so different, but I realize I was given the gift of a loving and honorable father. The best way to appreciate that is to recognize when others aren't so blessed, and offer them a little of what I have because of you."

 **Sixteen**

The Ponderosa quarantine was lifted ten days from the time the three Cartwrights had first been exposed. No one had so much as sneezed during that time, and the Cartwright and the Finley brothers had accomplished all of the chores Adam had to postpone when the bad weather had hit.

Emit Hendicks came calling a week later, announcing the birth of their baby boy and shaking from head to toe as Ben led him into the house to talk.

"I'm sorry for how things went that day, Mr. Cartwright." He addressed the man who'd sat behind the desk, and then looked to Adam who was leaning on the chair where his father was sitting. "Thank you for tellin' the sheriffs that it were an accident, Adam. I can't tell you how happy and surprised I was to hear you was alive."

"I could say the same thing, Emit." Adam smiled wryly. "What made you think I was dead?"

"I didn't want to touch you, but I stared at you for the longest while and saw no rise nor fall of yer chest. That shot hit you pretty much dead center."

"Your shells were loaded light," Adam explained. "That fact might explain why you never take down any birds with it."

"I understand it was an accident." Ben steeled his gaze on the young farmer. "But you nearly did cause Adam's death with the delay in us finding him, driven by your cowardice. That…I do not understand."

Emit blew out a long breath and then met Ben's glare. "I ain't never even seen a dead body before, and it spooked me somethin' awful, especially because a who it was. I knowed I did something awful, and could only think of gettin' Mary safe. There's no good answer to what I did, but those are the ones I give you." He broke eye contact. "The sheriff says Adam don't want no charges brought even though they might a figured out some that would work. I am thankful for that as well. We'll be staying with my folks and helpin' them with the farm, so you won't need to see me no more after this."

"Oh, we'll see you all right!" Adam adopted the squared off, hands-on-hips posture his father used when making a point. "You will get yourself back to your farm as soon as possible, and since you're behind with the planting, I'm giving you two of our new hands to help with whatever needs doing. You'll turn your woodshed into a bunkhouse, and they'll stay at your place until winter." He laughed at Emit's surprised expression. "How soon can you be back?"

He stuttered, "I…I…um…I can come back tomorrow. Pa and Ma'll have to bring Mary and Jimmy over when they're a little stronger." A crooked smile preceded his question. "Why are you giving us another chance?"

Adam turned to his father and smiled. "We're Cartwrights; it's what we do."

The End

*This gunfight is in a series of stories I wrote about Adam's last year home before going away to college. He encounters a hand who takes a particular dislike to the Cartwrights and gets young Adam to agree to a gunfight to save Ben. The drover "says" he'd rather fight Ben, but plays to Adam's sense of honor and protectiveness by claiming that his father is so old and slow that he'll die for sure. Adam doesn't carry a gun yet, and has to trick his father to help him practice with a hand gun, and then takes it without permission. You'll have to read the story to find out what happens. The series is called, _It's Just a Year_ , and this story is in _The Worst of Consequences_.

**Dr. Thomas Hamel Pinkerton came to Virginia City as the first surgeon and worked for the Ophir and Gould and Curry mines and was appointed the City Physician of Virginia City. He helped with the building of the first hospital there, and stayed until 1866. (Source: "The Bay of San Francisco," Vol. 1, page(s) 505-506, Lewis Publishing Co., 1892.)

***Markleeville was a small town located about 50 miles south of Virginia City. It was started by Jacob Marklee who owned property and set up a toll bridge to cross the Carson River. The small town and bridge took advantage of the mining industry, although there was never as much ore found near this area as further north in Virginia City. I use it only as a place that works for the showgirls to have been, not for any other historical significance.


End file.
